


We’ll Do That Together Too

by genevra1676



Series: The Monster That You Know [5]
Category: Dark Angel (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, BAMF Dean Winchester, BAMF Sam Winchester, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Sam Winchester, Canon-Typical Violence, Creature Dean Winchester, Crossover, Established Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Frottage, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Manticore (Dark Angel), Not Canon Compliant, Oral Sex, POV First Person, POV Sam Winchester, Post-Season/Series 05, Psychic Dean Winchester, Psychic Sam Winchester, Shapeshifter Dean Winchester, Shower Sex, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2020-03-06 04:06:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18843295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genevra1676/pseuds/genevra1676
Summary: Sam and Dean are getting used to raising Alec and soon have another addition to the family.  But they still have to deal with the threat of Project Manticore, which will do whatever it takes to get the escaped children (and possibly Dean too) back.  So the boys will have gather together some unusual allies to face this dangerous opponent . . .





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This picks up about three months after the end of Go Live Some Apple Pie Life and still falls into the gap year between Seasons 5 and 6. It does assume that you've read the previous stories in the series (the rather significant changes to the canon won't make sense if you haven't read at least some of them). You don't have to be familiar with Dark Angel however, as I'll do my best to explain anything from that show which impacts this story. 
> 
> Standard disclaimer: The words in this story are mine, but the setting and characters belong to Eric Kripke, the CW, et al.

“ _Daaaad!_   Grandpa wants to talk to you!”  Alec hollered from inside the house.

I looked up from the weeds I was pulling to where Dean was tinkering with the pump for the pond as he called back, “Bring the phone out here, kiddo!”

Alec came out carrying a cell phone as well as a portable cooler full of soda.  We each grabbed a can, and Dean took the phone after wiping his hand off on his jeans.  I raised my brows when I realized this was one of the burner phones Frank had given us, not Dean’s regular cell.

“Hey Bobby!  How’re you doing?” my brother asked while hitting the speaker button.

“Fine, just as long as those hellions don’t drive me into an early grave!” Bobby groused.  “I musta been soft in the head when I let you convince me to take in _two_ of the little brats!  You’d think I woulda learned better after dealing with _you_ chuckleheads for so long!”

Dean burst out laughing.  “You’re _so_ fulla shit, old man!  You bitch ‘bout the girls every time we talk, but we all know they got you completely wrapped ‘round their little fingers.  And _you_ were the one who insisted that you and Jody could handle more than one of ‘em, ‘specially with her moving in with you.  You told us, and I quote, ‘This place is too damn quiet now that you idjits have moved out!’”

The girls he was referring to were Tinga and Jondy, two more of the child super-soldiers who’d run from Project Manticore.  In the three months since we’d found Alec, we’d managed to track down seven of the other escapees, of the twelve that we’d determined had made it off of the base.  As we’d originally planned, we found homes for the children with either other hunters or trusted allies—besides the two Bobby and Jody took in, we placed Brin with Melissa Choi, Zane and Syl with Missouri Moseley, Krit with Garth, and Seth with Annie Hawkins.

“Listen, I know you wouldn’t be using this line for a simple social call,” I pointed out.  “What do you have?”

Bobby asked, “Is the boy nearby?  It might be best if he don’t hear all of this.”

I looked over to where Alec was playing with Hannibal on the other side of the gazebo.  That might be far enough away for a normal child, but I knew how well our son’s enhanced senses worked.  As a precaution, I cast a privacy spell around the two of us to prevent any eavesdropping.

“It’s safe now—he can’t overhear us,” I said.

“I got a call earlier from Fred Murtagh—he’s been keeping an eye out for stories ‘bout kids with barcodes on their necks, just like we asked.  He thinks he’s tracked one of ‘em down to Seattle,” Bobby replied.

We’d been using good old-fashioned detective work in addition to scrying magic to try to locate the runaway clones.  This included discreetly reaching out to certain contacts, like Fred, and giving them a limited amount of information about the children in order to aid our search.  This had helped us track down a couple of them so far, but we had to be careful that word of what we were doing didn’t get to the wrong people.  In Fred’s case, we’d divined that one of the kids wasn’t far from Portland, so we asked him to keep an eye out for any news that could help.

“I’m ‘fraid the rest of the news ain’t that good though.  Word is that someone’s been dropping bodies, and the local authorities are starting to think they’ve got a serial killer on their hands,” he continued.  “The vics all had their necks snapped after being chased, and the bodies were found in wooded areas posed in the same way and with most of their teeth pulled out.  More importantly, they each had a fresh tattoo on the back of their necks of a barcode—the _same_ barcode.  The number Fred gave me after scanning it is just one digit offa the one that Alec used to have.”

Dean and I looked at each other, and he then said, “It’s gotta be Ben, his twin.”

“That ain’t all.  Seems our killer has a type—the victims have all been men in their twenties or early thirties, tall, with dark blond or light brown hair, green eyes, fair complexions, and athletic builds,” Bobby added grimly.

I felt a chill.  “Those men sound like they could be you, Dean.  Do you think—”

Dean shook his head.  “This kid don’t know me from Adam, remember?  He’s more likely picking dudes that are grownup versions of him, though I dunno why.  You got any more for us?”

“Fred didn’t wanna send me too much, since he wasn’t sure how secure the call was.  So you should stop by to see him on your way to Seattle,” the older hunter advised.  “I told him to expect you in the next day or so.”

“We’ve got to hurry—we have to get to Ben before Manticore hears about any of this,” I insisted.

“Well, we might’ve caught a break there, son.  Seattle PD apparently doesn’t wanna cause a panic or inspire any copycats, so they’ve been keeping most of the details ‘bout the killings real close to the vest, _especially_ the bit ‘bout the tattoos,” Bobby told us.  “Fred said he had to pull some serious favors to get the info, including swearing not to publish anything ‘til the police got more solid leads on the perp.  It won’t keep those military bastards away forever, but it ain’t likely they’ll wise up before you can find the kid.”

“That’s some good news for a change,” I responded.  “Okay, we’ll clean up, get ready, and hit the road to Portland this evening to meet up with Fred.  We’ll call you as soon as we know more.”

We said our goodbyes and hung up.  Dean then gazed over at Alec.  “How much of this do we tell him?  You know he ain’t gonna stay behind, not when it’s his twin.”

Alec had accompanied us on most of our trips to retrieve the escaped clones, since the children were more likely to trust him than strange adults.  And being a social creature like Dean, he was happiest when in the company of the others.  Ever since he’d learned that first Bobby and Jody and then Missouri had adopted two of the runaways together, he’d been pestering us each time we found another of the kids.  We finally told him that we were waiting until we could find Ben, and after that he’d waited with bated breath for word of his twin’s whereabouts.

“You’re right—he’ll insist on coming with us.  He’s not a regular little boy who needs to be sheltered from everything though,” I replied.  “I think he can handle the truth, or at least most of it—we should leave out that Ben’s killed people but tell him the rest.”

He nodded and stepped out of the range of the privacy spell to call, “Hey Alec, c’mon over here!”

Alec dashed over and looked at us eagerly.  “What’s up, Dad?  Who did Grandpa track down this time?”

I dropped the remnants of the spell and guided him over to a nearby bench.  “We think it’s Ben.”

“Awesome!  When do we leave?”  The boy tried to bound to his feet.

Dean caught him and pulled him back down.  “Easy there, short stack!  It ain’t as simple as that.  From what Bobby’s heard, someone up in Seattle is hurting people, and we suspect it’s Ben ‘cause the attacker’s been leaving barcodes on the victims’ necks that are almost the same as yours.”

“Oh.”  Alec slumped down, then glanced up at us anxiously.  “Are—are you gonna . . . _hunt_ him?  ‘Cause that’s what you do, right—take down things that do bad stuff to other people?”

I sat down on his other side and put a hand on his shoulder.  “No, we won’t be hunting him like that.  We only go after creatures that hurt people on purpose or are too out of control to stop.  We know that Ben’s sick, and what he’s done isn’t his fault.”

“But you and Dad will be able to help him, right?”

“That’s right, kiddo.  Like I told you before, a lotta shifters have trouble controlling the crap they get from taking on others’ forms, and it can drive ‘em bonkers.  I ran into that myself when I was younger, ‘til Grandpa John found a ritual to get rid of the mental junk.  Plus more recently I’ve talked to shifters in the supernatural community ‘bout how they handle the issue,” Dean explained.  “Between that and my healing ability, we oughta be able to fix most of what’s wrong with the poor little guy.”

“And for the rest, he’ll have all three of us to take care of him and make sure he gets better,” I added reassuringly.  “Why don’t you head inside to wash up and pack a bag for the trip?  We’re going to head out after dinner.”

“You guys are the best!”  The boy hugged each of us enthusiastically before rushing into the house, with Hannibal trailing behind him.

“So much for our peaceful weekend at home!”  Dean gave me a rueful glance through long lashes and then stretched supplely.  “We oughta call work and leave messages in case this ain’t wrapped up before Monday.”

I eyed my husband with intent as he stood.  He was clad only in a pair of worn jeans slung low on his narrow hips and the amulet that always hung around his neck—even his wedding band had been safely stowed in his pocket while he worked.  A light sheen of sweat glistened on the fair skin and lean muscles of his torso, and long hours in the sun this spring had brought out bright highlights in his tawny hair and even more cinnamon freckles across his broad shoulders and down his strong arms.  The yardwork had kept me from being distracted by his half-dressed state earlier, but now that we were wrapping up . . .

I caught him by his belt-loops and tugged him closer.  “We should share a shower once we’ve tidied up out here—to save time, of course.”

“Of course, Sammy.”  He grinned down at me, then leaned in to capture my lips.  After a lengthy, tongue-laden kiss, he pulled back.  “Well, c’mon then!”

We hurriedly put our tools away in the new shed and deposited the yard debris in a trash can, then Dean grabbed my hand and dragged me inside.  The moment the bedroom door was locked behind us, we were on each other, kissing and groping enthusiastically.  A trail of discarded clothing was left in our wake as we made our way into our bathroom.  We pulled apart long enough to get the shower started and step into the glass enclosure, before falling on one another again.

As the hot water sluiced the sweat and dirt from our skin, we took turns rubbing a soapy washcloth caressingly over the other’s body, hands and mouths following after the suds had been rinsed away.  Once we’d cleaned ourselves off sufficiently, he dropped to his knees in front of me and enveloped my cock in his talented mouth.  I groaned appreciatively as his sinful lips brushed against the base of my shaft—no one else had ever deep-throated me as easily or as well as my brother.  He glanced up at me with smug, laughing green eyes and then swirled his tongue and began to hum _Since I’ve Been Loving You_ around my shaft.

I let him work his magic for a couple minutes before tugging him up, since it wasn’t his mouth I wanted to cum inside.  We kissed ardently again, then I grasped his hips and hoisted him up.  He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and legs around my waist as I sank into his taut channel, his head falling back with a pleased sigh when I bottomed out.  I pushed him up against the tiled wall and thrust vigorously into his slick heat, reveling in his passionate cries whenever I brushed against his prostate.  He in turn tightened his grip on my shoulders and squeezed his inner walls around my member in time with my strokes.

We moved together like this for a while, while the bathroom filled with steam and echoed with our gasps and moans.  As always, what aroused my passion was not only the exquisite sensation of being encased in his warm, snug passage, but also the amazing feeling of his pleasure, happiness, and love wrapping around me, as well as the knowledge that he could feel the same from me.  When his breath started to hitch, I slid a hand over to wrap around his cock.  A few quick jerks were all that was needed to push him over the edge, and he spurted over both of our bellies with a hoarse shout.  I pumped into him a handful more times before ejaculating loudly myself.

Dean dropped his legs down so he could stand, and we leaned against each other to catch our breaths.  We took a few more moments to rinse ourselves off again, and then he turned off the water.  I reached out to pull him against me, and we exchanged a series of deep kisses before stepping out of the shower.

“Did you remember to put up the spell?” he asked once we’d toweled each other off.

Having Alec in our lives hadn’t resulted in a noticeable decrease in the physical side of our relationship, but we _had_ been forced to become more circumspect.  Displays of affection had to be kept PG-rated anyplace where he might come across us, rather like when we stayed at Bobby’s house.  Even in our own bedroom, we had to lock the door and cast the privacy spell against his acute senses and inquisitive nature.  These minor inconveniences were a small price to pay compared to the joy of raising him though.

“I did, but it was a little challenging considering how . . . _enthusiastic_ we were!” I called from our walk-in closet.  “I wonder if there’s a way to tie the spell to the door somehow, so that it’s triggered automatically whenever we lock it.”

“That ain’t a bad idea, ‘specially since the nosy munchkin factor is ‘bout to double real soon!”

***

After a quick dinner of spaghetti, meatballs, and garlic bread, we piled our bags in the Impala and headed north.  A couple hours of driving later found us in the center of Portland.  I’d given Fred a call on the way, and he directed us to his condo in the Pearl District, just northwest of the downtown section of the city.

Dean and I both looked around in surprise when we parked in front of the high-rise.  The apartment building we’d dropped Fred off at after our initial encounter nearly six months ago had been decidedly on the shabby side.  This place however was new and modern, and the unit itself that he let us into was spacious and airy, with fairly high-end finishes.  It was rather sparsely furnished, and there were half-empty boxes scattered about, suggesting that he’d moved in here very recently.

“Nice digs, dude,” Dean commented.  “I gotta say, this is a pretty big step up from the last time we saw you.”

Fred smiled.  “I have you both to thank for the change, at least indirectly.  Before I met you, my career was in a major slump, but learning about what’s out there has made a huge difference!  If I’m ever able to tell the public the truth about the supernatural—assuming I could find a way to do so that wouldn’t threaten you or the others—I need to be in a position where people will believe my story.  So I’ve worked on upping my game and sent articles out to bigger, more influential publications, and after a while I managed to land a much better job.  I was able to move into this condo three weeks ago as a result.

“But enough about me!  Let’s go into my office, since the information you came for is all in there.”  He gestured towards the hallway.

I turned to Alec.  “Why don’t you wait here on the couch with your DS while Dad and I talk to Fred?”

The boy scowled.  “Why can’t I come with you?  You know I’m _not_ some wimpy little kid you gotta hide bad stuff from!  And you’re gonna need my help to find—”

“We get that, son.  But you’re still _our_ kid, and it’s our job to protect you as much as we can,” Dean interrupted patiently.  “Believe me, me and Sam know first-hand ‘bout having crap shoved at you that _no_ kid should hafta deal with, ‘bout having to grow up _way_ too young!  And we don’t want that to happen to you—or any of the others—any more, especially after what you’ve already been through.”

“This is part of our taking care of you, Alec.  Let us go through the info first, and then we’ll tell you what’s safe for you to know.  We _promise_ you won’t be kept in the dark,” I added.

Alec heaved a put-upon sigh and flopped on the sofa.  “Fine, whatever!”

Fred gave us a curious look as he led us down the hallway.  “I’m guessing there’s quite a story there!  Particularly since no one ever mentioned you two having a son before.”

I nodded.  “There is, and maybe we’ll be able to tell it to you later.  But first we need to know about what you found.”

“Of course.”  He opened the door to one of the bedrooms, which had been converted into a home office.  After we’d take our seats on the futon, he sat at the computer chair and turned to face us.  “I’ve been keeping an eye out for leads involving barcode tattoos, like Bobby asked.  I assume he’s told you what I passed on to him.”

“Yeah, ‘bout the bodies that’ve been found in Seattle, all fitting the same physical profile and killed the same way,” Dean said.  “And all of ‘em with the same barcode tattooed on the back of their necks.”

“There’s more.  They’ve also been what everyone calls ‘good’ guys—a lawyer who specialized in _pro bono_ cases, a doctor who ran a free clinic in the poorest part of town, and a social worker who worked with runaways.  And I’m sure you’ve noticed how close the physical description is to yours, Dean.  It’s even more striking when you see these.”  Fred pulled some pictures from a stack of files and held them out.

What he handed us were copies of autopsy photographs.  The three men looked enough alike to pass as cousins or even brothers—all were young, attractive, in excellent shape (at least prior to their deaths), and with virtually identical coloring.  More importantly, the similarity to Dean’s appearance was uncanny.  My brother’s expression was stoic, but I felt like someone had just walked over my grave.

“What else can you tell us?” Dean asked calmly.

“The victims were found in forested areas of Discovery Park approximately one or two days after they each went missing.  The condition of the bodies suggest they were chased through the woods first—cuts and abrasions on exposed skin, minor bruising on their forearms and shins, stuff like that,” Fred explained.  “Then their necks were snapped at the C2 vertebra, apparently with one hand, and they were displayed postmortem with their left arms twisted behind their backs, elbows broken and shoulders dislocated.  Whatever we’re dealing with has to be very strong and fast to have taken out these men like this.”

I handed the photos back to him.  “What about the teeth?  Bobby said most of their teeth were extracted.”

“Yeah, it looks like the teeth were yanked out before the bodies were posed, and again probably by hand.  At first, the police thought it was done to make identification more difficult.  But then the teeth were found on the altar of the Virgin Mary shrine at the Sacred Heart Catholic church,” Fred replied.  “After the third kidnapping, the cops tried setting up surveillance in the church, but the officers there saw nothing, and the cameras only picked up a blur.”

“Huh, looks like a connection to the Blue Lady that the kids have talked ‘bout before.  And the other details fit in with some kinda ritualistic killing,” Dean noted.

“The police so far don’t have any leads.  No one saw or heard anything at the abduction sites, park, or church, and the perp hasn’t left behind any fingerprints, DNA, or other evidence on the bodies or at the crime scenes.  So I hope you and Sam have got some idea of what we’re dealing with here.”  Fred gazed at us expectantly.

I sighed.  “We do, but the explanation is pretty out there, even for us.  We’re nearly positive that the killer is Ben, Alec’s twin brother.”

“Alec—you mean the little boy in my living room?  But . . . but . . . you’re trying to tell me a _child_ did all that?”  Fred’s expression was incredulous.  “I assume the boys are shapeshifters like Dean—the resemblance is obvious—but . . . I still find it hard to believe that even a shifter could be capable of such feats at such a young age!”

“And you’d be right ‘bout that—we’ve hardly ever run into a case of monster kids of any kind causing this kinda mayhem,” Dean responded.  “But Alec and Ben aren’t ordinary shifter children.  They technically ain’t even my sons—they’re my clones.”

“Your—your _what_?  Like . . . like in _Multiplicity_ or something?  But that’s just not _possible_ —we don’t have that kind of technology yet,” Fred insisted.

“I told you this was pretty whackadoo!”  I said.  “We thought the same when we first found Alec three months ago, but we couldn’t deny the evidence in front of us.  The U.S. military evidently has developed the means to clone humans, and they’re running a secret program called Project Manticore to create super-soldiers.  They got their hands on Dean’s DNA several years back and created Alec and his brother Ben from it.”

Fred flopped back in his chair.  “Wow!  If this were anyone else, I’d say you were drunk or nuts—or both.  But since it’s coming from you two . . . I can see now why Bobby insisted on keeping everything so hush-hush.  How did _you_ find out about all of this?”

“Sam had one of his dreams, and that put us in the right place at the right time when a buncha these child soldiers tried to escape from the army base where Manticore’s been doing its dirty work.  We managed to get Alec away that night, and we’ve been trying to find the other kids since then,” Dean answered.

I added, “We’ve been trying to learn more about Manticore as well, but it hasn’t been easy.  They’ve been _very_ good about covering their tracks, and we have to be careful not to attract their attention either.”

“I can imagine!”  Fred then asked hesitantly.  “So . . . how dangerous _are_ these kids?  I mean, I know you wouldn’t have brought Alec here if you thought anything bad could happen.  But if it _is_ his brother committing these murders . . .”

“They _were_ trained as soldiers practically since birth, and I’m sure they’ve had to kill before.  But the same can be said of Dean and I as well,” I replied bluntly.  “Underneath everything Manticore’s done to them, they’re still children who deserve better than this.  The ones we’ve rescued so far have settled into their new families well, and there’s every reason to believe they’ll adjust perfectly fine despite what they’ve been through.”

Dean continued, “And Ben’s situation is different than the others.  He and Alec are the only ones who are exact clones of me, so they’re the only ones who are full shifters.  Alec was given a drug to block his shifting abilities while Ben wasn’t, as part of some kinda experiment those asshats were running on ‘em.

“Problem is, taking on another person’s form means taking on their memories, which can make a person pretty unstable after a while if they dunno how to get rid of ‘em.  All that extra crap suddenly crowding their minds is what makes a lotta shifters go rogue.  _That’s_ what we think’s happened to Ben and why he’s gone on this killing spree.  So we’re gonna find him before he can hurt anyone else, and we’re gonna do our best to fix him,” he concluded firmly.

“I hope you’re right.  Here—I’ve made copies of everything I managed to gather on these cases for you.  A lot of this is stuff only the Seattle PD has access to—they haven’t released most of this to the press.  The only reason _I_ got a hold of so much is that I used to work up there, and a good friend in the ME’s office sent me everything she could after some persuasion.”  Fred passed over three file folders.

I took them and stowed them in my satchel.  “Thanks a lot, man!  This information will be invaluable in tracking Ben down.”

“Always glad to help!  If I find out anything more, I’ll give you a call.  Speaking of which, do you want me to look into this Project Manticore too?”  Fred’s expression was eager, undoubtedly at the thought of an exciting new story.

I shook my head.  “This is a _lot_ more hazardous than digging up weird and unusual stories for us.  These people have no problem using and abusing children to their own ends, so I doubt they’d object to getting rid of a reporter prying into their affairs if they catch you.  We’ll let you know if there’s anything that won’t put you at too much of a risk, but until then it’s best if you steer clear.”

“If you insist, Sam.”  He sighed in disappointment and then paused for a moment.  “What happens if you _can’t_ fix this boy?  It’s not like you can send him to a mental hospital or anything like that, given what he is.  So will you have to—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence, dude!” Dean retorted fiercely.  “Failure is _not_ an option!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BAAACK!! I'm terribly sorry about the long wait since the end of Go Live Some Apple Pie Life. As those who've read my notes and comments from that story know, I was diagnosed with breast cancer in October 2017 and started chemotherapy not long after finishing posting GLSAPL. I'd started posting another long story, Nothing Else Matters, right after GLSAPL and assumed that I could work on that and Part 5 of this series at the same time, since I usually worked on more than one story at a time. I soon discovered that chemo brain barely let me concentrate on one story, let alone more, so anything else had to wait until Nothing Else Matters was done. Then I had to give the muse a bit of break as well as get used to working full-time again after being on medical leave for nearly a year. But now all my cancer treatments are done, and I'm back with the next part of my shifter!Dean series. :)
> 
> This story originally was going to encompass both the Dark Angel crossover and some of the plot points from SPN Season 6 (no Soulless!Sam, obviously!). It quickly became apparent that this would be too much to try to juggle in one fic, so I decided to split them. As mentioned in the starting note, you don't need to have watched DA before this. If there's anything about that aspect of the story that you are confused by, please feel free to ask in the comments.
> 
> This is still a work-in-progress, so the chapter count may change, and more tags will be added. I plan to post a chapter every Wednesday evening, as long as my schedule allows me to keep up with the writing. Constructive criticism is always welcome, and comments and kudos are highly appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys track down Ben . . .

As soon as we got into the car, Alec demanded, “Well?  What did he tell you?”

“We still have to go through the files Fred gave us, but it’s pretty clear that it’s Ben,” I replied.  “And we now have a better idea of where in Seattle to start looking.  Tomorrow we’ll go check out a couple of these places and see what we can uncover that the police missed.”

“We’re gonna get to him before they do, right?” Alec asked anxiously.  “Or Manticore?”

“The cops don’t got a clue ‘bout what to look for, and we got some time before the army douchebags figure out what’s going on,” Dean assured him.  “Don’t worry, kiddo.  We’re gonna find Ben before anything happens to him.”

We were about halfway to Seattle when Bobby called on my burner phone.  “Hey there, Sam.  You met up with Fred yet?”

“We did, Bobby.  Can’t talk much about it right now since we’re still in the car,” I said as I put the phone on speaker.  “We’re actually on our way to Seattle as we speak.”

Bobby took the hint.  “Gotcha.  Well, the girls overheard me and Jody talking ‘bout what’s going on, and they told me some stuff that you oughta know.”

“Shoot then, man.  The more we got to work with, the better!” Dean called out.

“Seems like Ben was the main driving force behind the little cult of the Blue Lady that his unit had going on.  He’d tell the others stories, try to explain things to make ‘em feel better, even come up with little rituals for ‘em to follow.  Tinga and Jondy both think that whatever he’s doing now is to appease the Blue Lady or gain her favor or something like that,” Bobby explained.

“The girls say to try looking for him in the ‘High Place.’  Apparently their unit used to go up onto the roof of their barracks, where they’d built a makeshift altar to the Blue Lady.  They’d go up there to pray to her and give her little offerings, including their baby teeth.”  Bobby paused at that.

“Their teeth, huh?  Ain’t _that_ interesting?”  Dean exchanged a significant glance with me.

“It certainly is, ain’t it?  So if that’s the case, Ben’s likely lurking in the highest spot in the area he can find.  You also should call in Castiel if you can.  Given Ben’s obsession, he’s more likely to listen to the angel than anyone else,” the older hunter advised.

“That’s not a bad idea.  We could also use Cas’ help with healing whatever mental damage Ben’s suffering from,” I mused.

“That’s all I’ve got at the moment.  Good luck, and gimme a call as soon as you’ve got anything solid.”  Bobby then hung up.

Dean looked thoughtful.  “The High Place . . .  Hey Sam, how far is the Space Needle from either that park or that church?”

I pulled up Google Maps on my phone.  “Dude, it’s barely a quarter-mile from the church.”

“Yahtzee!”  Dean grinned triumphantly.  “I betcha anything _that’s_ where the kid’s been hiding out.”

“So are we going straight to this Space Needle place tomorrow?” Alec asked.

I shook my head.  “We don’t want to rush into this blind and risk spooking Ben or setting him off.  It’s best if we stick with our original plan—check out Sacred Heart and Discovery Park, talk to the police, and gather as much information as we can before we make a move.”

We arrived in Seattle an hour and a half later and checked into a double room at the Mediterranean Inn, which was located a few blocks away from the church.  After putting Alec to bed, we read through the information Fred had gathered.  The autopsy reports filled in the details of the murders, which were both brutal and methodical.  They’d occurred approximately a week apart, with the last having been discovered six days ago.  The teeth generally had been found on the altar a day after each of the deaths.  Aside from that, it was clear the police had no concrete leads.

On a hunch, I then searched for similar cases outside of Seattle, as there was nearly two months since the escape unaccounted for.  What I found wasn’t good.  _Dude, we’ve got a bigger problem than we thought.  This isn’t the first time that Ben’s dropped bodies.  There have been at least three other deaths with the same profile before the ones here—one in Missoula and two in Spokane.  And one of the articles I found made brief mention of military officials showing up within a few days and taking over the case._

Dean looked up from his laptop.  _Sonofabitch!  Well, the fact that the Seattle cops have been pretty tightlipped so far works in our favor, but we gotta expect Manticore’s goons to show up sooner or later.  In the meantime, his timeline suggests that Ben’s gonna grab another vic pretty soon.  We gotta find him before that happens._

 _And I think I just found pretty solid confirmation that he’s at the Space Needle.  Turns out that the Needle’s been closed to the public for nearly three weeks now.  Apparently someone set off a coupla demolition charges late one night, destroying the elevator cars and fucking up the elevator shaft and both staircases.  The police have had it shut down ever since while they investigate.  The bombing happened right after the first murder, though of course the local LEOs dunno the crimes are connected._   He sat back with a satisfied look on his face.

 _It’s unlikely this is a coincidence, given what_ we _know.  This’ll make getting up there to find him even more challenging though,_ I commented.  _We should call it a night so that we can be out of here early tomorrow._

We had a quick breakfast at the Starbucks in the hotel lobby the following morning and returned to our room to change into our Fed suits.  These outfits, Samuelsohn made-to-measure wool suits we’d picked up at a trunk show in Portland a few months ago, were a far cry from the cheap, mostly polyester outfits we’d relied on for so many years.  Once we were dressed, Dean closed his eyes and prayed to summon Castiel.

Our friend appeared with his usual soft rustle of feathers.  “Hello Dean, Sam—and Alec too.  I take it you’ve found another of the children?”

“We have, but this one’s more complicated than the others we’ve gone after.”  My brother then gave Cas the sanitized version of what we’d discovered, since Alec was right there, and showed him the police records.

“I see,” Cas said after perusing the files.  “Of course I am glad to help however I can.  What would you like me to do first?”

“Dean and I are going to the church to question people there and then talk to the police involved in this case.  Could you take Alec over to Discovery Park and examine the scenes where the victims were found?  The two of you have a better chance of noticing any evidence there,” I replied.  _And Cas, ixnay on any mention of the murders in front of Alec.  We’ve told him that Ben’s hurt some people because he’s sick, but he doesn’t need to know the full details._

 _I understand.  The truth here is much for a child to bear, even one like Alec._   Castiel gave the boy a smile.  “It appears that we have the more interesting task of exploring a park, while your parents conduct boring interviews with priests and law enforcement officials.  We should leave before they change their minds.”

Alec grinned back.  “You bet, Uncle Cas!  We’ll have our own adventure!”

Castiel took his hand and disappeared with another quiet flutter.  Dean and I exchanged an amused look as we took the elevator down to the parking garage.  The seraph seemed to get along unexpectedly well with the children we’d rescued so far.  He’d even once mentioned that if it weren’t for his other duties keeping him so busy, he might consider adopting one of them himself. 

We were surprised to see several police cars already there when we pulled up in front of the Sacred Heart Church, which was a two-story brick building with a tall bell tower at one corner and the Space Needle readily visible in the background.  We grabbed our badges out of the glovebox and headed inside, where we approached a plainclothes detective speaking to one of the priests.

“Agents McClane and Gruber, FBI,” Dean announced, flashing his badge.  “Who’s in charge here?”

“Detective Gupta, Seattle PD.”  The detective shook both of our hands.  “I’m surprised to see you boys here today.  As far as I know, no one from the department called in the Feds.”

“Anonymous tip,” I explained briefly.  “We have reasons to believe this is connected to cases in at least two other cities.  Has there been a new development at the church?”

Gupta sighed.  “You can say that!  One of the priests, Father Destry, has gone missing.  He apparently came in early to prepare for his first morning Mass, and it looks like he was attacked while offering confession.”

I peered in the confessional booth she indicated and took in the door that had been knocked off its hinges and the hole that had been evidently punched through the wooden partition.  “Out of curiosity, what does Father Destry look like?”

“Here.  He’s pretty new to the parish, and he was only added to the church’s website a couple of days ago.”  The detective handed over a piece of paper.

We studied the printout intently.  The missing priest was a handsome, fit-looking man in his early thirties, with light brown hair, green eyes, and freckled skin.  Beside his picture, the website included a brief biography detailing some of the good works he’d done at his previous positions and described how one of the reasons he’d joined Sacred Heart was to take over management of the food bank the church ran in the building next door.

Dean gave Gupta a scathing glance.  “This guy fits the victim profile to a T, and no one thought to warn him that he might be in danger?”

“We didn’t think the killer would select a target from _here_!” she replied defensively.  “The others were snatched from different parts of the city.  Taking someone right in the center of our investigation seemed like a bigger risk than we assumed the perp would want to take.”

“Yeah, well you should know what happens when you fucking assume!” Dean retorted angrily.

“Remember, we’re probably not dealing with a very rational individual here,” I pointed out in a calmer tone.  “Finding someone like the Father here likely fed right into the suspect’s delusions—he would’ve taken it as a sign of divine approval or something.”

“Has the Bureau put together a psych profile on the suspect?” Gupta asked.

“The shrinks are still working on it, but the killer’s religious fixation is fairly obvious,” I said in response.  “Did anyone here see anything?”

She shook her head.  “Same as when the other victims were taken.  The perp must’ve waited until Destry was alone and then overpowered him.”

“Huh!”  Dean frowned and glanced around the chapel.  “D’ya still have the surveillance cameras up?  And have any hospitals or doctor’s offices reported missing any sedatives?”

“I wish, but the church complained that it would be an invasion of their congregation’s privacy to leave the cameras in place.  I bet they’re regretting that now!”  Her expression was sour.  “As for the drugs, I’ll look into that and get back to you.”

We left her at that point to question the priests, church staff, and parishioners there.  They confirmed that no witnesses had been around at the time of the abduction, but a couple did admit to seeing a young boy fitting Ben’s description on and off at the church over the past few weeks, primarily at the Virgin Mary shrine.  Before we left, the detective informed us that several animal hospitals in the area had reported thefts of various veterinary tranquilizers.

Once we were back inside the Impala, Dean said, “Okay, if the kid sticks to his usual timeline, then he’ll take the priest to the park later tonight after it closes for the chase.  Until then, he’ll have them both holed up at the top of the Space Needle.  We gotta get there before he leaves.”

“Agreed.  Which means we’ll have to assault the Needle during the day and hope we don’t attract any attention.”  I pulled my phone out.  “I’ll call Cas and have him and Alec meet us back at the hotel room.”

“Yeah, at this point whatever they might find in the park don’t really matter.”  He sighed.  “Let’s just hope we can stop Ben without _anyone_ getting hurt.”

***

A brief brush across their minds—with Dean murmuring, _These aren’t the droids you’re looking for_ , in my head—got us past the uniformed officers parked in front of the Space Needle.  It was only a couple minutes’ work to then pick the lock on the doors to the Visitor Center and duck under the crime scene tape.  Inside, the bases of the elevator and both sets of open-air stairs were cordoned off with more tape.  The elevator doors were ajar, revealing a blackened shaft clogged with debris, and the metal stairs were twisted and warped for a good twenty or more feet up.

“Climbing those certainly won’t be easy,” I noted.  “And we’ll be exposed to the view of anyone in the area who happens to look up.”

“And there’s a good chance that Ben’s got the stairs and elevator shaft rigged with alarms and traps, like what some of the other kids did,” Dean added, referring to the defensive measures a few of the clones had employed to protect their hideouts when we found them.

“I think it would be best if I conveyed all of us up to the top,” Castiel offered.  “Time is of the essence, and this will hopefully help us keep the element of surprise.”

Dean clapped him on the shoulder.  “That’s an awesome idea, man!  Beam us up, Scotty!”

Dean scooped Alec up, and then Cas grasped my brother and me by the upper arm and transported us with a faint flapping sound.  We reappeared on the restaurant level, just outside one of the central stairwells.  From here, we had a view through the large windows across the city to the bay.

Dean set Alec down and looked around intently, extending all of his senses.  After a moment, he gestured to the spiral stairs leading to the observation level.  We quietly moved upstairs, where he led us past the café.  As we approached the gift shop, I could make out two voices.

“You—you don’t have to do this, Ben.”  The man’s voice was somewhat slurred, presumably from the tranquilizer he’d been dosed with.

“You don’t understand—the Blue Lady _needs_ this.  She needs our sacrifices to be strong, so that she can fight _all_ the ‘nomalies out there.  What I gave her before wasn’t good enough— _they_ weren’t good enough.  But if I can find the _perfect_ offering, then she’ll be able to save us!”  The boy sounded eerily like Alec, but with a strident fervor in his voice our son had never expressed.

“That—that’s not how this works, son.  Belief in the Blessed Mother is about _love_ , not death.  We offer her our faith and devotion, and she gi—gives us the strength to bear the burdens life gives us,” the man tried to explain.

On the other side of the shop was an enclosed observatory.  Words like _Mission_ , _Duty_ , and _Discipline_ had been spray-painted in black on the walls.  Father Destry was strapped down to one of the chairs, with his clerical collar pulled off to bare his neck.  Ben was nearby, preparing what appeared to be tattooing equipment.

As with his voice, the physical resemblance to Alec was uncanny, but with certain unsettling differences.  Their features were of course identical, even down to the freckles, though Ben still bore the scars from their violent upbringing.  His blond hair was buzzed close to his scalp, and he was clad in a black turtleneck and camo pants—as opposed to Alec’s longer hair, torn jeans, and _Kung Fu Panda_ t-shirt.  The most telling contrast between the boys though was the zealous expression on Ben’s face and manic gleam in his eyes.

Castiel stepped forward.  “Father Destry is correct.  The Lady does not want us to kill for her.  There are other ways, better ways, to aid her.”

Ben whirled in surprise, and his features flickered briefly.  “Who the hell are you?  And how did you get up here?”

Cas smiled beatifically in response.  “I flew here with my companions.  My name is Castiel, and I am an angel of the Lord.”

“Don’t try to trick me!” Ben shouted angrily.  “I’m sick of all the lying, cheating, hurting . . .  We thought life would be better out here, but it’s so much _worse_.  The things these people say, do, _think_ . . .  We never should’ve left the base.  At least things made sense there!”

Cas nodded.  “I understand.  Let me prove myself to you then.”

The seraph stood up tall, throwing off the somewhat diffident demeanor he frequently wore.  His eyes began to burn a bright, incandescent blue, and the rest of his body started to glow as well.  As the illumination spread around him, the shadow of immense wings could be seen unfurling.  He didn’t reveal himself like this often, but it was hard to forget just how impressive our friend truly was.

“Sweet Mary Mother of God!”  Father Destry’s face was stunned.

Castiel walked up and put a hand on the priest’s shoulder as the light around him began to fade.  “Have no fear, Father.  You are safe now.”

Ben looked at him with wide eyes.  “Did—did the Blue Lady send you?  Is she . . . is she mad at me?”

“No, child.  She understands that you are confused and need help,” Cas replied.  “But you must let this man go.”

“Besides, he ain’t the one you _really_ want, kid,” Dean said as he moved up next to the angel.  “These other sorry bastards have been pale imitations of your _actual_ target—me!”

Ben stared at him, his nostrils flaring.  “Wh—who are _you_?  Why do you look and smell like me?”

“My name is Dean, and I’m your donor, Ben.  You were made from me, so as far as I’m concerned, that makes you my son.  The Lady sent Sam over there a vision, and so we were there when your unit escaped from Manticore.”  He pointed at Alec, who was standing beside me.  “We found your twin that night and brought him home with us, and he’s now happy, healthy, and safe.  We’ve been looking for you ever since.

“I’m sorry it took us so long to find you, kiddo.  We did our best to try to track you down sooner, but it don’t change the fact that we weren’t here when you needed us.  But _this_ is what you’ve been searching for all this time—a place to belong, a _family_.  If you’re willing to give us a chance, we’ll take care of you from now on.”  He knelt down and extended a hand to the boy.

“This is the real deal, dude.  Dad and Papa can fix the crap that Manticore did to us—the scars, the tattoo, even the shakes.  We can be real kids from now on, not soldiers or—or experiments.  You don’t need to fight no more,” Alec added as he stepped up to just behind Dean’s shoulder.

Ben cocked his head.  “I . . . I remember you.  They took you down to the Bad Place with me and Max, and you came with us when we broke out.”

He then bit his lip as he studied Dean closely, his form wavering undecidedly.  “How do I know if you _deserve_ to be given to the Lady?”

“You would be hard-pressed to find someone worthier than Dean Winchester,” Cas told him.  “He is the Righteous Man, whose coming was foretold for eons in Heaven’s prophecies.  He and his brother Sam have rescued countless people and indeed saved the world more than once, without ever asking for any reward.”

Ben suddenly whipped his head around, catching me as I was trying to edge surreptitiously towards his prisoner.  “Bull!  You’re just here to stop me!”

With that, he flung the tattoo gun at me and darted away, running so fast he seemed to blur.  Dean bolted after him, and I grabbed Alec’s shoulders to keep him from following.  There was an outraged cry as my husband caught Ben at the far edge of the observatory and sat down, pulling the struggling child into his lap.  Castiel swiftly crossed the room to help, and Alec rushed over the moment I let him go.

As soon as Dean and Cas had Ben under control, I began untying the priest.  “It’s okay now, Father.  We’ll get you out of here shortly.”

Destry rubbed at his wrists.  “What’s wrong with that boy?  The way he moved, how he overpowered me—is he . . . is he possessed?”

“No, nothing so serious,” I assured him.  “But he is very sick, which is why he can’t be held accountable for what he did.  Dean and Cas are going to do their best to fix him though.”

He glanced over to where Dean sat with Ben cradled in his arms, while the seraph stood over them with a hand resting on the boy’s head.  All three had their eyes closed, and Dean and Cas wore expressions of deep concentration.  Alec was crouched next to them, watching anxiously.

Destry shook his head in confusion.  “I—I don’t understand . . . Who are you two?  What is Manticore?”

“This isn’t going to be easy to believe, but . . . Manticore is a secret military project trying to create super-soldiers through cloning and genetic modification.  Alec and Ben were cloned from Dean’s DNA and raised to be killing machines until they and a few others escaped three months ago.  We were able to find Alec right away but didn’t get confirmation of Ben’s whereabouts until yesterday,” I explained.  “Manticore did something to Ben which left him mentally unstable, and I just hope we can repair the damage.”

“Normally I’d think you’re confusing reality with some sci-fi novel, but I _saw_ what that boy could do.  The fact that you’re with an angel does help make your tale more credible,” he said, getting unsteadily to his feet. 

We watched the others for a couple more minutes before Ben suddenly gasped and burst into tears.  Dean cuddled the boy against his chest and began rocking and murmuring soothingly.  Alec climbed into my brother’s lap as well and wrapped his arms around his twin.

Before I could join them, Castiel walked over to us.  “We have purged the foreign thoughts and repaired most of the derangement to the child’s mind.  The remainder will require time and care to heal, which I know your family will provide.  To aid in this endeavor, I have . . . blurred Ben’s memories of his recent activities.  Knowledge of these killings is a heavy burden for one so young.”

I clasped his hand gratefully.  “Thanks, Cas.  I’m not normally in favor of messing with someone’s mind like that, but in this case, it’s a kindness.”

Cas turned to Father Destry.  “I am glad we arrived before you were injured.  With your permission, I will take you to the base of this tower now.  There are police officers outside who can then take you to safety.  Please understand though that you cannot discuss the truth of what happened here with anyone else.  Manticore is ruthless, and they will not react well if they discover you know about them.  Nor can we afford for them to learn of our involvement.”

“I—I understand.  I suppose I can claim I don’t recall much since I was drugged.”  Destry took a deep breath.  “Thank you all for preventing me from ending up like those other poor souls.”

While the angel transported the priest away, I went over to my family.  Ben had stopped crying and was lying quietly against Dean’s chest.  I noticed his hair was now longer, if not quite as long as Alec’s, and his scars and tattoo were gone.

I knelt down beside Dean and ran my fingers through Ben’s hair.  “How are you feeling?”

“It’s _quiet_ now!  I haven’t felt so—so peaceful in such a _long_ time,” he whispered with a tremulous smile.  “Am I going to be your son too?”

Alec looked up from stroking his twin’s back.  “Dad and Papa are gonna take care of _both_ of us—you’ll see.  You’re gonna be my brother from now on, and it’s gonna be _awesome_!”

As Dean leaned into my shoulder, I pulled both boys into a hug.  “That’s right.  And now we’re going to take you _home_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is based at least partially on the Dark Angel episode Pollo Loco, which introduced (adult) Ben to the show. Obviously some things are quite different--Ben here is an 8-year-old boy, not a 20-year-old man, this isn't post-Pulse Seattle, and of course there's the SPN crossover aspect. But I tried to keep as much as I could from that episode, such as what he did to his victims or using the Space Needle as his base. For more about the original episode, you can go here: https://darkangel.fandom.com/wiki/Ben. Or feel free to ask me questions in the comments!
> 
> There've been a number of happy coincidences that have gone into this crossover so far. When I first began developing my version of shifter lore in the earlier parts of this series, I hadn't decided to add in the crossover yet--I made shifters more feline purely because the other shapechangers in SPN tended to be more canine. But that happened to mesh in nearly perfectly with the X5's abilities, which were due in part to cat DNA. The mental issues shifters have from "downloading" the thoughts, memories, and emotions of the people they copy seemed like a good way to explain Ben's psychotic break (which DA never went into why). And when looking up locations for this chapter, I discovered that the Sacred Heart of Jesus Church (the closest I could find in name to the Our Lady of the Sacred Heart Church used in Pollo Loco) was indeed only a few minutes away from the Space Needle. Apparently the writing gods were smiling upon me for this chapter! :)
> 
> I need to put my nose to the grindstone if I don't want to lose my buffer, since I didn't get a lot written this week, and the holiday weekend is going to be busy too. The next chapter should still be posted next Wednesday evening--hopefully not quite as late in the day as this one! Constructive criticism is always welcome, and comments and kudos make me a happy kitty. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys bring Ben home . . .

It was approaching evening when we pulled into our driveway.  After ensuring Father Destry had been taken away by the police officers guarding the Space Needle, Castiel had teleported us back to the Impala.  We first returned to the hotel to gather our things, and Alec insisted that Ben change into a set of his clothes—an _Adventure Time_ t-shirt, corduroy pants, and orange sneakers.  We then got back on the road, with both Dean and I constantly looking in the rearview mirror or over our shoulders at the two little blond boys huddled over Alec’s DS.  Cas elected to stay behind to await Manticore’s arrival and ensure they didn’t pick up our trail.

On the way home, I called Frank Devereaux to get him to finalize the necessary paperwork to establish the identity of one Benjamin Robert Smith-Wesson.  We’d been telling people that we’d discovered Alec had a twin brother since not long after first taking him in.  The tale we’d spun was that their fictitious mother had given Ben up for adoption because she couldn’t handle raising two boys by herself, and we’d been trying to track him down in the foster system.  Frank had already put together the bulk of the necessary background for Ben’s new alias, and I now sent him the last details to complete the work.

I also called Bobby to let him know we’d been successful and were heading home with both boys.  He in turn promised to bring the girls over in a couple of days.  The children were always ecstatic about spending time with each other, and we figured Ben especially could use the company of his unit mates while he adjusted to his new life.

Dean parked in the garage next to my GTO, got out, and stretched with a groan.  I also exited the car and turned to open the back door.  Ben had fallen asleep a while back and lay with his head in his twin’s lap.  Alec looked up with a smile when I reached in and gently shook the other boy’s shoulder.

“Hey buddy, wake up!  We’re home now,” I said softly.  “Help Alec grab your things, and we’ll take you inside.”

Once the Impala was unloaded, we made our way to the side door.  As always, Hannibal’s excited barking could be heard from the moment we’d stepped onto the porch.  He tried to leap on us as soon as the door opened, and Dean shooed him back inside with a fondly exasperated grimace.  I kept a reassuring hand on Ben’s shoulder as I guided him through the utility room and into the kitchen.

“Alright kiddo, this is where you’re gonna live with us from now on,” Dean announced.  “Alec, why don’t you take him upstairs to your room and let him settle in for bit while I make dinner?  We can show him the rest of the place after we eat.”

“Before that though, let’s introduce you to the rest of the family.  _This_ loudmouth here is Hannibal.”  I steered the boy over to the puppy, who was wriggling with eager curiosity.

“Don’t be afraid, man—Hannibal is _awesome_!  I know he’s humungous, but he’s _super_ friendly and great to play with!”  Alec draped himself over Hannibal’s shoulder to demonstrate.

Ben looked dubiously at the pup, who was nearly as tall as him and easily twice his weight, and cautiously extended a hand.  Hannibal gave it a vigorous sniff, swiped the palm with his tongue, and thrust his head under the boy’s fingers.  Ben obediently scratched between his ears, and Hannibal let out a pleased whuff and moved closer to slobber all over his face.

“Eww!”  Ben giggled and tried to wipe his face clean.

“And _this_ is Astrid.  Don't let her ladylike demeanor fool you—she's just as much of a brat as he is.”  I scooped the nine-month-old kitten off the island countertop and held her out.

He reached out and slowly stroked the orange and black fur along her back, and his eyes widened when she began to purr.  “Oh!  She sounds like I do when I’m happy . . .”

“It’s part of being a shapeshifter, kiddo.  What Manticore told you were feline traits they put into you kids—the enhanced senses and reflexes, increased agility and speed and strength, faster healing and metabolism—are actually from your shifter heritage,” Dean explained.

“That means every X5 has some of Dad’s genes, which makes _all_ of us related for real, at least a little,” Alec added.  “Now c’mon!”

He grabbed his brother’s hand and dragged him upstairs.  I in turn took our bags into the master bedroom to unpack.  When I returned to the kitchen, Dean was in the midst of preparing chicken tetrazzini for dinner.  I took over slicing the mushrooms and chopping the onions, and he moved on to sautéing the chicken.  Once the dish was baking in the oven and the pots, pans, and utensils were soaking in the sink, we opened a couple beers and sat back on the loveseat to relax.

We’d barely settled in when the boys came clattering down the stairs, with Hannibal close on their heels.  Alec was holding the stuffed Toothless I’d gotten him the day we’d found him, and Ben was cradling a large plush Appa.  Alec immediately clambered into Dean’s lap and curled up there.  Hannibal flopped onto his bed in front of the fireplace, while Astrid claimed a spot on the back of the loveseat behind Dean’s head.  Ben hung back uncertainly until I held my arms out, then he crawled into my lap.

“What do you think of your room?” I asked with a smile.

“It’s _wonderful_!  We—we never had anything like it at the base, with so much space for just the two of us, such a big, soft bed, and all the clothes and books and toys!” Ben replied excitedly.

“I’m glad you like it!,” I said.  “In a day or two, we’ll take you to the Bi-Mart to get you some things of your own.”

His brow furrowed.  “Oh, but Alec said that all of his stuff belongs to both of us now . . .”

“It’s great that you wanna share everything, but you each should still have some things that are _yours_ , like a favorite shirt or stuffed animal,” Dean interjected.  “Papa and I had to share a lot when we were kids ‘cause we didn’t have room to carry much around, so the few things that were just mine or just his were extra important.  You ain’t gonna have the same problems we did, but the principle still applies.”

Ben bit his lip and glanced down.  “You guys have been so _nice_ to me . . .  And you’re not mad ‘bout—‘bout the people I hurt?”

“No, we’re not, Ben.”  I hugged him close as I spoke.  “What happened wasn’t _your_ fault.  What you kids had to do to survive while under Manticore’s control is on _them_ , not you.  They didn’t give you any other choice but to follow their orders.”

“They’re also to blame for what went down after you escaped, kiddo.  Those douchebags _knew_ the risks of uncontrolled shifting, and they still tried to use you as a damn guinea pig!” Dean added fiercely.  “It sucks that those guys got hurt, but that goes on Manticore’s tab and no one else’s!”

“What happens now?”  Alec looked back and forth between us.

“After dinner, we’ll show Ben the rest of the house and the yard and tell him what it’s like around here.  When he’s feeling up to it, you can introduce him to your friends in the neighborhood.  We’ll also look into signing you both up for some of the local activity programs over the summer, and we’ll enroll Ben with you to start attending the Sudbury School in September,” I explained.  “In the meantime, Grandpa will be bringing the girls over in a few days to spend some time with both of you.”

“Right now, why don’t we show Ben one of our favorite movies while we’re waiting for dinner?” Dean suggested.  “Alec, you pick out something good.  Papa can get the drinks, and I’ll throw together a salad.”

The boys scrambled off our laps and moved over to the shelves flanking the fireplace to peruse our collection of DVDs and Blu-Ray discs.  I went to the fridge, filled two glasses with milk—even though Dean had fixed their built-in deficiency, Alec and the other clones still displayed a marked preference for dairy, poultry, fish, and other foods high in tryptophan—and grabbed two bottles of beer.  Dean pulled various fixings out of the fridge and in short order assembled a chef’s salad. 

After bringing the salad and drinks over and arranging ourselves on the couch, we unsurprisingly began watching _How to Train Your Dragon_ , with Alec frequently whispering excited comments to his twin or trying to reenact scenes with his toy.  We paused the movie when the over timer buzzed to take the chicken tetrazzini out and fill our bowls, then resumed our seats.  Ben’s expression of wonder at his first taste of the rich, hearty casserole made me wonder what he’d been living on since escaping the military base.

Once the movie was over and all the dishes were cleaned and put away, we took Ben around his new home.  Dean and I watched with tender amusement as Alec insisted on acting as his brother’s tour guide, stepping in only when his explanations grew too fanciful.  We then sent the boys off to wash up and change for bed, as it’d already been a long and eventful day.

We went up ourselves to check on them about an hour later.  From the doorway to their bedroom, I could see our sons curled around each other in the center of the queen bed by the dim light from the small aquarium in the corner.  Alec was curved protectively around Ben, who in turn had a floppy plush puppy squeezed in his arms.  Hannibal was sprawled across the foot of the bed—he and Astrid seemed to take turns between which one slept here or with us.  The chest at the foot of the bed wasn’t closed completely, and a few toys were scattered on the floor.

_We did it, Dee.  We now have our boys safe under our roof, and we’re not going to let_ anything _bad happen to them again!_   I slid an arm around my husband’s waist.

_Damn straight!_   He leaned into my shoulder.  _Seeing ‘em like this kinda reminds me of when we were kids._

_I know, right?  Though our surroundings were never this nice, other than when we were staying with Bobby or Pastor Jim._   I sighed pensively.  _Let’s just hope they don’t turn out as messed up as we were!_

_Don’t worry ‘bout that, Sammy.  Alec and Ben are gonna have all the things_ we _didn’t—two parents who are there for them, a safe, stable home, a steady, challenging education, and a_ real _childhood.  Now c’mon._   He took my hand and led me to bed.

***

The boys were already up and in the family room when we emerged from our bedroom the next morning, though they were still in their pajamas—Spiderman for Alec and dinosaurs for Ben.  Cartoon Network was on the TV, and half-empty glasses of chocolate milk were on the coffee table.  As we headed into the kitchen, Alec stood and tugged Ben to his feet.

“Dad usually only has time to make simple stuff in the morning during the week, but on Sundays he makes us a _huge_ breakfast,” Alex told his brother as they followed us.  “He’s an _awesome_ cook!”

Dean smiled as he ruffled Ben’s hair and wiped the remnants of a milk mustache off Alec’s upper lip.  “You squirts sleep alright last night?”

“Oh yeah, thanks . . . Dad.”  Ben ducked his head shyly.  “It’s been great here so far, and not just ‘cause of the pretty room or comfy bed or stuff like that.  At Manticore . . . the adults there were always so strict, and we weren’t allowed to show warmth to each other—it was a sign of weakness or something.  I—I think I’ve gotten more hugs since you found me than in my whole time there.”

“Well, things are going to be _very_ different from now on, Ben.  Don’t ever be afraid to come to us for affection or reassurance or anything like that, okay?  We’re always here for you.”  I put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a encouraging squeeze before letting Alec lead him to the kitchen island.

The kids climbed onto stools at the breakfast bar and watched raptly as Dean began pulling out ingredients.  In a fairly short period of time, he whipped up omelets, hash browns, sausage links, toast, and pancakes.  I did my part by brewing coffee, squeezing fresh orange juice, and slicing up berries and melon to go with the meal.  The boys then helped us carry everything into the dining room.

Once we’d all loaded up our plates and filled our glasses, Dean and I explained more about the supernatural and hunting to Ben, with Alec piping in with what he’d learned in the past three months.  This in turn led to a discussion of the Winchester family history, dark spots and all, including trying to describe our . . . unique relationship in a way an eight-year-old could understand.  We also told him about Bobby, Cas, and some of the other members of our—and now his—extended family.

Once we finished eating and they cleaned the dishes, we let the twins watch cartoons for a couple hours before shooing them upstairs to get dressed.  We then took everyone out into the backyard, where Dean and I picked up where we’d left off two days ago with the yardwork.  Alec showed his brother the “important” parts of the yard, such as the pond, the tire swing we’d hung from the big oak near the gazebo, and the spot where Dean had begun constructing a large wooden playset, while Astrid and Hannibal gamboled after them.  The four eventually wandered down to the woods behind our property, where the occasional excited shout or bark soon drifted back to us.

I was in the study working on the _Liber Juratus Honorii_ a few hours later, after we’d come inside and made sure everyone got cleaned up.  The boys had followed Dean downstairs to his workshop, where he was fabricating parts for the playset, leaving me to work in relative peace and quiet.  One of my ongoing projects was scanning each of the lore books in our collection, converting the document to a searchable PDF, and adding metadata, bookmarks, hyperlinks, and comments.

I glanced up after a while and noticed Ben standing in the doorway.  “Hey Ben, what’s up?”

“Can I sit here with you for a while?” he asked shyly.  “What Dad’s doing is pretty neat, but it’s so _loud_!”

“Of course!  I get what you’re saying about the noise down there.  Dean would turn down the music if you asked, but there isn’t much he can do about the power tools.  So come in and sit!”  I gestured to the chair on the other side of the desk.

He took a seat and looked around the room briefly.  “This all is gonna take some getting used to—especially being able to do what I want.  At Manticore, we never had any free time—we were always training, having lessons, doing maintenance, stuff like that.  Even reading books or watching movies were assignments to help us blend in.  And the coupla months after leaving the base weren’t much better; I was too busy doing what I thought the Lady wanted or trying to find food and shelter or dodging the creeps and goody two-shoes to have time for fun.  I—I’m not sure what to do with myself right now.”

“Don’t worry about that, and don’t feel like you have to rush to find out.  It took Alec some time to figure out what he liked too,” I pointed out.

“Really?”

“Yeah, it did.  He was just as confused when he first came here as you are now.  So take as much time as you like,” I replied.  “And don’t think that you have to like the same things as he does—or that Dad does either.  Just because you share the same genes doesn’t make you the same person.”

Ben was quiet for a moment.  “If . . . if I wasn’t Dad’s clone, would you have hunted me, killed me, like the monsters you were telling me about?”

I shook my head.  “Even if you weren’t family, we wouldn’t have hurt you if we could avoid it, given your situation.  We try to only take out those who hurt others intentionally or are completely out-of-control.  Someone who was sick or confused, like you were, we’d try to help if we could.

“That’s not to say that other hunters would react the same way though.  Unfortunately, many hunters are pretty black-and-white that anything supernatural, or at least any which hurts people, has to die.  That’s why we have to be careful who we reveal our abilities to,” I explained.

The boy’s expression was still guilt-stricken.  “It just doesn’t feel right.  I hurt those people, but I’m not being punished for it . . .”

“C’mere, Ben.”  I held my arms out until he came around the desk and climbed to my lap, then wrapped them around him.  “You don’t deserve to be punished, okay?  In the criminal justice system, if someone is determined to be mentally unfit to be held accountable for their actions, they’re sent to a hospital for treatment, not to jail.  It’s the same situation for you, except we knew how to cure you right away.”

“So you don’t think I’m a b—bad person ‘cause of what I did?”

I hugged him even tighter.  “No, sweetheart.  The fact that you feel guilty shows that you have a conscience, that you’re a _good_ kid.  Never forget that.  And Dad and I will be here to protect you and prevent anything like that from happening again.”

He curled up against my chest for several minutes before sitting up and shakily asking about the books around us.  I started talking about some of my favorites from when I was a child and pulled a few off the shelves.  He eventually moved back to the other chair and engrossed himself in _The Hobbit_.  A small smile crossed his face when Astrid strolled in and jumped onto his lap.

Dean and Alec emerged from the basement a couple hours later, and my brother announced, “Lemme wash up real quick, and then we’ll go out for pizza!”

It took him about fifteen minutes to clean up and change, and then we piled into the Impala and drove to Countryside Pizza and Grill near the northern edge of Veneta.  We were seated at one of the tables by the front windows, and the waitress got our drinks—two Cokes and two Total Domination IPAs—before leaving us to look over the menus.

Alec promptly blew his straw wrapper into his brother’s face.  Ben, not to be outdone, dropped an ice cube down the back of his twin’s t-shirt.  Dean and I grinned and let the two squabble good-naturedly for a moment before threatening to separate them.  After the waitress took our order of mozzarella sticks and a medium Supreme pizza sans olives for the boys, chicken-fried steak with onion rings and roasted vegetables for Dean, and crispy chicken club sandwich with salad for me, Alec took Ben over to the corner where there was a pinball machine and a couple arcade games.

Dean leaned back with a nonchalant expression, but his eyes were heavy with emotion as he watched the boys play.  “This still seems pretty wild, yanno?  I used to imagine sometimes what it’d be like having kids of my own, like every once in a while when you were growing up or when a case involved kids, like with Lucas Barr or Ben Braeden.  The _reality_ though—I don’t got the words to describe how it feels having these two here, and making sure they’re safe and happy.  There . . . there ain’t much I wouldn’t do for them.”

I wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and leaned over to brush my lips against his.  “You’re an amazing father, sweetheart.  Alec and Ben are so lucky to have you—like I was when I was little.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Sammy.  You’ve been right there with me these past few months taking care of Alec, and going forward with him and Ben.  We’re _both_ gonna be awesome dads!”  He kissed me back fiercely to punctuate that.

“I do get that.  But everything I know about being a parent I learned from _you_ —it certainly wasn’t from Dad’s piss-poor example!”  I then gave him a playful nudge with my shoulder.  “So take the compliment, jerk!”

“Bitch!”

Our food arrived shortly after, and we called the twins back to the table.  Ben’s reaction wasn’t as dramatic as Alec’s first meal, since he’d told us earlier how he’d gotten by after leaving Manticore mainly through scrounging meals from fast food joints, mall food courts, and similar places where he could blend in with the other children there.  He nevertheless attacked his pizza with enthusiasm and was soon trying to steal the shrimp from Alec’s slices, who retaliated by swiping more of the mozzarella sticks.  Ben overall was a less messy eater than Alec or Dean, but I still found myself rolling my eyes at the happy food noises now in triplicate.  Which only got worse when dessert showed up, in the form of hot fudge sundaes for the boys and strawberry crème brûlée for my brother.

After paying for our meal, we went on a drive through town to show Ben some of the places we’d already introduced Alec to, such as other favorite spots to eat, the local skate park, and the community pool.  Once we returned home, we went up to the game room and took turns teaching Ben how to play foosball and air hockey.  The boys eventually were sent off to get ready for bed, and Dean and I switched over to playing pool.  When our game was over and the kids were tucked in, I went around the house double-checking the security systems while Dean took his evening shower.

When I emerged from the bathroom after washing up myself, Dean was lying in the middle of our bed wearing nothing but his amulet and wedding ring.  It was an undeniable truth that he looked good dressed in just about anything, but I couldn’t resist him clad only in the symbols of our love for each other.  I quickly checked that the bedroom door was locked and the privacy spell up before joining him.

_God, Dee, you’re so beautiful!_ I breathed as I stretched out beside him.

A delicate flush spread across his cheeks.  _Flattery will get you everywhere!  But I ain’t a chick.  Dudes are_ handsome _._

_Trust me, I know full well that you’re a guy!_ I replied, placing my hand over his swelling cock.  _But I stand by what I said.  You_ are _beautiful in every possible way!_

_Dammit, man, did you suddenly grow a vagina while you were brushing your teeth?_ he growled before rolling on top of me and seizing my lips in an intense kiss.  Despite the gruff act, I could tell how pleased the compliments made him.

The next few minutes were a tangle of caressing hands and passionate lips.  Dean then extricated himself enough to begin kissing down my neck and chest, pausing briefly to suck a mark at the base of my throat and again to nibble at my nipples.  I groaned as he leisurely made his way down my abdomen, sensuously licking along the trail of hair leading from my navel to my groin. 

He smirked up at my impatience before dropping his head to mouth at my balls.  After nuzzling them for several moments, he moved up a bit to run his tongue up the underside of my shaft.  I threaded my fingers through his dark gold hair while he lapped at the head of my cock and tugged when he swallowed it down to the base.  He started to hum _Immigrant Song_ and bob his head in time with the tune, his tongue swirling and cheeks hollowing as he sucked on my member.  I moaned and did my best not to buck my hips too wildly in response.

_W—wait, Dee!_   I managed to gasp.  _I want . . . want us to cum together!_

_I think I can work with that, baby boy,_ my lover purred with a lascivious grin.

I reached down and pulled him up into kissing range, which also served to line our cocks up.  He immediately began rolling his hips to rub his member against mine.  I in turn slid my hands down, wrapped my hands around both of our shafts, and began stroking.  We continued to rut together frantically, gasping curses and endearments into each other’s mouth between passionate kisses. 

Dean abruptly stiffened, and his cock jerked in my hands before spurting over my fingers.  He swore breathlessly as I jerked him through the remainder of his orgasm, then gave me an extremely filthy, tongue-laden kiss and tugged sharply on my hair.  That was enough to tip me over, and I came all over our bellies with a hoarse shout.

He collapsed bonelessly on top of me once I was done.  _Damn, that was_ awesome _!_

_No arguments, man.  But we’re going to end up glued together if we wait too long, and since my fingers are all gooey . . ._   I pulled one hand free and wiggled my sticky fingers. 

_You suck, dude,_ he bitched before peeling himself off of me and fishing a washcloth out of his nightstand drawer.

_You love me when I suck,_ I replied after he’d cleaned both of us up.

_That was terrible, even by_ my _standards,_ he declared.  _But I do love you, sweetheart,_ all _the time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this chapter and the next one were combined, as this story is going to be more plot-driven as opposed to fluffy. I later decided to expand on Ben's first couple days in his new home, so the chapters got split and expanded on. One of the challenges here was making sure this didn't end up too similar to the end of the previous story, so please let me know if you feel they are too much alike. I'm not sure how many occasions for domestic fluff there'll be later on in this story, so I hope you enjoy this! :)
> 
> On the topic of happy coincidences that I mentioned in my previous note, I noticed that foods that are high in tryptophan tend to also be the types that cats really like. Given shifters' feline tendencies, it made sense that the former X5's would still like those foods even after being cured of the deficiency. (As a refresher, in Dark Angel some of the clones had a genetic flaw in which they couldn't produce tryptophan naturally. I changed that to an intentional weakness that Manticore built into them as a control mechanism, like the lysine deficiency that InGen added to the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park.)
> 
> I wanted to post this chapter earlier in the evening for a change, but my sister-in-law and I went to see Detective Pikachu after work, so I only got home about an hour ago. Next week's update will probably be later in the evening as well, since the two of us are planning to see John Wick 3 (we tend to go to the movies on Wednesdays while my husband is at fencing practice if it's a movie he's not interested in.) We'll have to see if I can start posting a little earlier after that. In the meantime, constructive criticism is always welcome, and comments and kudos make my day. :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby comes to visit, and a plan starts to come together . . .

As promised, Bobby showed up two days later.  To my surprise, three girls piled out of the beat-up old van instead of the expected two.  They pelted past me with a hurried chorus of “Hi, Uncle Sam!” and made a beeline for the family room, where Alec and Ben were playing near the French doors leading out to the patio.

“Brin found out from Jondy and Tinga that we were coming here to see Alec _and_ Ben, and she insisted on joining us,” Bobby explained as I helped him unload their bags from the van.  “Figured you wouldn’t mind the addition.  You gonna have room for all of us?”

“Your usual bedroom is still free, and we can pull out the sleeper sofa in the game room for the girls.  Though if this is like any of the other times these kids have gotten together, they’ll all end up in a giant puppy-pile on the boys’ bed anyway!” I replied before leading him inside.

“You got Ben in with Alec in the same room then?”

I nodded.  “We figured they could use the added comfort of sleeping together for now.  After things settle down for a while, we can switch out the queen for a set of bunk beds.  And eventually when they’re older and need more space, there’s room down in the basement to put in another bedroom and en-suite.”

“Good that you’re thinking ahead, ‘specially since you hadn’t planned on taking in two rugrats when you got this place,” he said approvingly.  “Jody sends her regrets, by the way—she couldn’t get offa work on such short notice.”

“No problem, man.  I’m sure we’ll see her soon enough,” I responded as I dropped the bags near the sofa.

Dean came out from the kitchen, where he’d been prepping taco fixings, and gave the older hunter a quick hug.  “You made pretty good time getting here, dude.  I sent the two-legged and four-legged kids out back to run off some energy and not be underfoot while I’m cooking.”

“That reminds me—the next time you come by my way, I’ll hafta introduce you to the newest members of _our_ family.  Seeing Alec with Hannibal these past coupla months made me realize how long it’s been since I had a mutt around, and I figured the girls might like have a pooch of their own.”  Bobby gestured towards the back door, where the children could be seen darting around in an elaborate game of tag, with Hannibal as “it.”

Dean grinned at him.  “You old softy!”

“Yeah, yeah, bite me!” Bobby retorted.  “Anyways, the girls picked out the pups and their names, so we now have Cuchulain and Boudicca to fill in Rumsfeld’s shoes.”

“That’s great, Bobby!  We’ll have to see how they and Hannibal get along,” I said.

Dean called the kids inside soon after and sent them upstairs to clean up before eating.  After gorging on tacos, black beans, Mexican rice, and sweet corn cakes and then cleaning up the ensuing mess, we all went out into the backyard.  Bobby, Dean, and I relaxed on the patio with cold bottles of El Sol, while the children resumed chasing each other around, this time with Nerf crossbows and foam swords.

Bobby took a long swig and set his bottle down.  “So how’s Ben doing so far?”

“Pretty well, all things considered.  The adjustment’s going to be even more challenging for him than the others though,” I answered.  “It won’t be easy getting over what he went through, even after what Dean and Cas did for him.  There hasn’t been anything more serious than a nightmare or two so far, but we’re keeping a careful eye on him.”

“Fortunately, Alec’s taking his new role as Ben’s brother pretty seriously and doing his best to look out for him.  And we’re all trying to get him to understand that what happened ain’t his fault,” Dean continued.  “I got both of their abilities on tight lockdown, so we don’t hafta worry ‘bout anything like this happening again.  When things calm down, we’ll start showing ‘em how to control their powers a bit at a time.”

“It helps that I'm between semesters right now, so the boys can stay home with me during the day.  By the time the summer term starts, Ben hopefully will be up for going with either of us to work until their school year kicks off,” I added.

“We might not be able to do much ‘bout this woo-woo shit, but if there’s anything else me and Jody can do to help, you just let us know.  In the meantime, I got a bit of good news the other day.  We got word that another one of the runaways, Kavi, was seen hiding out near Kansas City.  Garth and Krit are going there to extract him, and I even convinced Rufus to take the boy in.  Idjit _says_ it’s only gonna be temporary, but five bucks says he changes his tune soon enough.”  Bobby snorted in amusement before picking up his drink again.

“That _is_ good news!  If Garth can find Kavi, then only three of the children are still unaccounted for—Zach, Max, and Vada.”  I clinked my bottle against his before continuing.  “Any word from Frank regarding Manticore?”

“I did check in with him before leaving Sioux Falls, but so far _bupkis_.  These assholes have been far too good at covering their tracks!” Bobby grumbled.  “Frank’s been trying to follow every angle he can think of, including financial, but the most he’s found so far is some information on the old army base outside of Gilette that was _supposedly_ decommissioned ‘bout twenty years back.”

Dean leaned forward.  “Anything good there?”

The older man shrugged.  “Mostly just bureaucratic crap ‘bout the shutdown.  He did manage to uncover a set of blueprints, but there’s no way to tell how outta-date they are by now.  And with how completely self-contained this damn secret program is, there ain’t no easy way to question anyone or sneak someone in to find out.”

“Yeah, it looks like their supplies only come through military channels, and all their labor is handled internally.  There ain’t even cleaning staff that comes in from the outside.”  My brother sat back with a frustrated glare.  “We _gotta_ find some way to get the intel we need if we’re gonna have a snowball’s chance in hell of taking these bastards out!”

“We also gotta deal with the major manpower shortage we’re facing.  There simply ain’t enough hunters to tackle a military base, ‘specially since we’re limited to the ones we can trust to _not_ go all Rambo on the soldiers—or the kids,” Bobby pointed out.  “We also need families to take these kids in once we get ‘em out.  There are even _less_ hunters that would make decent parents, and we don’t have the support network built up enough yet to farm so many children out among reliable allies.”

It was now my turn to lean forward.  “I may have an idea that could take care of _both_ of those problems.  I say we turn to the supernatural community for help.”

My brother stared at me with wide eyes.  “That’s . . . Sammy, that’s fucking brilliant!”

I tossed him a quick smile before focusing on Bobby, who looked skeptical.  “Think about it, man.  Most supernatural creatures are not only stronger and faster than the average human, they’re also _much_ harder to kill with the standard weapons those soldiers will have.  On top of that, the community is probably better equipped to handle the unique needs of these children _and_ more experienced in keeping a secret like this under wraps.”

Bobby’s expression was still doubtful.  “I get what you’re saying here, Sam.  But . . . why would they get involved in this mess?  I’d think they’d be more likely to consider this humans-only business and not their problem.”

“’Cept this _ain’t_ only ‘bout humans.  Like I told Ben before, the X5’s have some of my genes, which makes ‘em all part-shifter,” Dean explained.  “And with the animal DNA spliced in and other shit that Manticore’s done to ‘em, the earlier . . . uh, versions—‘specially the ones the kids call ‘nomalies—probably have more in common with the weres, vamps, and other supernatural critters than with ordinary humans.”

“I also think enough of the community will want to help for the same reason that we’d be doing this even if Dean wasn’t directly involved.  These are _children_ being manipulated and abused, and I can’t see the people we’ve met just ignoring something like that,” I added.

“Edith and the coupla others you’ve introduced me to seem like decent folk, so maybe you’re right.”  Bobby shrugged.  “But don’t underestimate the bad guys’ possible response if the community does agree to help.  We don’t know how much info Manticore mighta pulled outta Dean’s head back when they had him in their clutches.  They might know more than we expect ‘bout how to fight back against the supernatural.”

“I honestly doubt they got as much as you’re concerned about, Bobby.  Think about those psychic X4’s Alec had mentioned—if they were the series right before the X5’s, then at best they’d have been not much more than toddlers when Dean was captured.  So it’s not that likely that Manticore could’ve simply had one read his mind or whatever,” I said.  “They might’ve resorted to _other_ means of questioning, but . . .  Dean withstood the worst Hell threw at him for decades, so I’d put my money on him telling Lydecker and his goons to fuck off before giving up anything.”

“Even if they _did_ get something offa me, we can still work that in our favor.  After all, think ‘bout how much we really didn’t know back then.  We thought vamps were extinct, we hadn't run into a werewolf in years, we’d hardly ever dealt with demons, and we didn’t have a clue ‘bout angels or a whole lotta other things,” Dean put in.

“That may be true, but there's also the chance that Manticore decided to research into the supernatural on their own after finding out about Dean,” Bobby retorted.  “I ain't saying that you shouldn't bring the community in on this, but don't get cocky either.”

“How much these douchebags know is yet another thing we hafta find out before we can make our move.  Even if we get enough monsters and hunters to buy into helping us, we still can't go in there blind,” Dean groused before opening a second beer.

“Something will come our way, man—something always does,” I said, projecting as much confidence into my voice as I could.  “It's going to take a while to contact the people we need and get them organized, so we’ve still got time.  Besides, after facing down Lucifer, a bunch of corrupt military asshats is a walk in the park in comparison!”

***

Bobby and I took the children to City Park the next day after lunch to burn off their excess energy before Dean got home from the auto shop.  We claimed a pavilion not far from the community center and let the kids loose with some brightly colored balls and Frisbees.  I was pleased to see Ben laughing and enjoying himself as the five of them raced out onto the field and shouted made-up rules to one another, with Hannibal barking and gamboling around them.

The older hunter and I had just set up our camp chairs when we heard a familiar flutter of feathers.  We turned to see not only Castiel but also Claire Novak.  He murmured something to her, and then she ran off to join the other kids.

“Claire has been curious about the children ever since I first mentioned them to her,” Cas explained.  “When I looked in on you a short while ago and saw you here, I went to the Novak home and asked if I could bring Claire here to meet some of them.  Amelia has given permission for Claire to visit until after dinner, and then I must bring her back.”

The seraph had begun checking on Amelia and Claire a couple months ago—presumably observing the two of us taking care of Alec reminded him of his promise to look after Jimmy’s family.  It’d been pretty rocky at first, as the Novaks were understandably wary of the creature who’d taken their husband and father away in the first place, and learning that he’d gotten poor Jimmy killed not long after they’d last seen him hardly endeared him to them further.  But Cas persisted, and first Amelia and then Claire had begun slowly softening towards him.

He now watched her join the elaborate game with a bemused expression.  Claire was a few years older than the other children but had no problem fitting in, particularly since the former child soldiers were taking pains to not move too fast, jump too high, or throw too far in this public place.  The excited shrieking increased when she quickly revealed the loaded Super Soaker she’d brought with her, and a whole new layer of rules was added to their sport.

“It’s great that Claire’s mom is trusting you like this, man.  I know it hasn’t been easy,” I commented.  “Come join us under the shade, where we can referee the madness from the sidelines.”

“Thank you, Sam.”  He took a seat at one of the picnic tables.  “I wanted to let you know that soldiers did show up in Seattle two days after you left.  It was a small force, led by a Colonel Lydecker, and they endeavored to question those involved in the investigation into the . . . uh, assaults.  I made sure that the witnesses and the detective you spoke to could not give them a useful description of either of you.”

“Smart thinking there, Cas!”  Bobby saluted him with his soda bottle.

Castiel shrugged.  “Manticore discovering that any of us are involved, even if they are unable to trace your current aliases, would be problematic.  I also asked a friend, Samandriel, to keep an eye on their base.  He cannot pierce the psychic shielding over the place without detection any more than you or I, but he can keep us informed if Lydecker’s team or anyone else comes or goes.  I know it is not much, but—”

“No, no, that’s a great idea!” I assured him.  “It’s potentially more than we’ve gotten via other methods.”

“So I take it that your contacts have not uncovered anything new recently?” he inquired.

“Not much, but we might’ve come up with something else,” I replied, and then recapped the conversation we’d had last night.

“I agree that bringing the supernatural community in could solve some of the problems we face,” Cas said.  “How do you plan to move forward with this?”

I shrugged.  “I figured we’d start with the friends we’ve made over the past year and have them pass the word on.  We’d like to meet with the leaders of as many nests, packs, and whatever other hierarchy they have as we can, to see how many will agree to help with either assaulting the base or taking in some of the children.”

Bobby poked me with the bottle.  “No time like the present, boy!  Organizing a powpow with the community bigwigs ain’t gonna happen overnight, so the sooner you get the ball rolling, the better.”

“I can ensure that no one will overhear your conversation,” Cas offered.

I nodded, pulled out my burner phone, and dialed Edith’s number.  It rang several times before there was a tentative, “Hello?”

“Hi Edith, it’s Sam.”

“Oh, Sam!”  Her voice warmed up instantly.  “I didn’t recognize the number and was about to let it go to voicemail.  Is Dean there too?”

“No, he’s still at work.  And there’s a reason I didn’t call on my regular phone.  We have a favor to ask,” I answered.

“We still owe you both for rescuing Justin, as well as bringing dear Lenore and her family to join us.  So what can we help you with?” she asked.

“Don’t agree to anything before you hear what it is!  What we’re asking is pretty major,” I warned.  “You remember us telling you about Alec?”

“Dean’s son that you found recently?  Of course!  Don and I were hoping you’d come to visit soon so everyone could meet him,” she said.

“There’s two now—we managed to track down his twin, Ben, a few days ago.  What we need has to do with them.  They’re . . . they’re not _exactly_ Dean’s kids, not in the traditional way,” I admitted.  “I’m not going to try to explain _that_ over the phone, since it’s pretty unbelievable without seeing them, even for people like us. 

“What I _can_ tell you right now is that the place they ran from is a nightmare, and the people there are trying to get them back.  So our family won’t be safe until these people are stopped, plus there are many more children still trapped in that hellhole.  This problem is too big to handle on our own, and there aren’t enough hunters, at least not ones we can trust in a situation like this, to bring in on this.”

“And you think our nest can help?”  Her voice was hesitant.  “It’s not that I want to turn you down, but you know that most of us aren’t much good in a fight.”

“Dean and I get that, and we don’t want anyone to do something they’re not comfortable with.  What we’re asking for initially is to set up a meeting with as many of the leaders in the supernatural community as we can get on short notice, so that we can explain what we need face-to-face and hopefully convince some of them to aid us,” I responded.  “And there’s more beyond taking these guys head on that your people can help with, even those who don’t want to fight.”

“You do understand that that’s hardly going to be an easy sell, right?  I can’t hide who you really are, not for something like this, and the Winchester name doesn’t exactly have a good reputation among most of the community,” Edith pointed out.  “My word alone won’t be enough to convince people that this isn’t part of some elaborate trap, a la the beginning of _Braveheart_.”

“We know, and we’re prepared to do whatever we can to alleviate everyone’s concerns about this meeting.  Your people can pick the location and the date and, if they want, wait until the last moment to tell us so that it’s clear that we won’t have the opportunity to plan anything nefarious,” I suggested.  “We won’t be bringing any other hunters with us, not even Bobby.  We’ll bring Alec and Ben with us though, both to support our story _and_ as a sign of good faith.”

“That _will_ help quite a bit, since even the skeptics will have trouble believing you’d bring your children along if you were plotting some kind of double-cross,” she said in response.  “I can’t promise much, but I’ll do what I can to convince some of the other nest leaders to meet with you.”

“Thanks, Edith!  I know this will take some time to organize, but sooner would be better for us, since these assholes could be breathing down our next any day now.  Just give us enough advance notice to be able to drive to the meeting location,” I replied.

“Let me have a week or two, and I should have something set up.  I’ll give you a call once I have some more information.  Give Dean and your boys our love!”  With that, she hung up.

“Well, that went fairly well, all things considered,” Bobby observed.  “You got more folks to call, I assume?”

I nodded.  “Yeah, there are a few others we made friends with during our honeymoon and since.  Not all are heads of their own nest or pack or whatever, but hopefully they can talk to those who are.”

“Once we see how this supernatural conference goes, I’ll get on the line and round up as many trustworthy hunters as I can for a little summit of our own.  Figure my place will work best for that, since most of ‘em are familiar with it,” Bobby offered.  “Gotta be extra careful who I invite though, if this crazy monster-hunter alliance thing is gonna pan out.”

“I have yet to be successful in convincing Michael that we should intervene directly in human affairs, at least in this instance, but I will continue my efforts.  Even if that fails, I should be able to persuade some of my brethren to offer assistance in a support capacity, such as transportation and healing,” Castiel added.

“That would be great, man!  It’s starting to feel like things are coming together, assuming we can get enough of the supernatural and hunter communities to buy in,” I said.  “I just hope this works!”

I finished making the rest of the calls, and then Cas and I joined the kids in their version of Calvinball with Bobby heckling everyone impartially.  We eventually returned home to find Dean waiting for us with burgers, Italian sausage, roasted corn, and grilled vegetables.  Cas left at that point, with the promise to return for Claire in a few hours.  After dinner had been demolished and the resultant detritus cleaned up, the children settled down in the family room with kettle corn, homemade milkshakes, and a _Shrek_ marathon, while the adults retired to the patio with bowls of dark chocolate cherry gelato and bottles of Oatis oatmeal stout. 

“D’ya realize that this exact time last year, we were gearing up for our showdown with Old Scratch?” Dean commented after swallowing a huge mouthful of his dessert.  “And _now_ look at us—settled down with a house, kids, pets, the whole nine yards!”

Bobby raised his bottle in a salute.  “Here, here!  Your daddy and I rarely saw eye-to-eye ‘bout how he raised you, but I know he’d be thrilled to see you both like this, building a life beyond just hunting.  I think this is what he always wanted for you, but he kinda lost himself after a while.”

“I wish he _could_ see us now.  I may have spent most of my life pissed as hell at him, but Dad deserved better than the raw deal he got,” I said moodily.

“Hey, none of that shit!  Dad went out saving his son’s life, got to help us take out Yellow-Eyes in the end, and is in Heaven with Mom, so don’t feel down on yourself, Sammy.”  Dean bumped my shoulder with his and waited for my faint smile before changing the subject.  “You manage to call everyone today?”

“Yeah, I talked to Edith, Susan and Joe, Reverend Myer, the Lassiters, James Frampton, and a couple others, and they’ve agreed to contact more people they know,” I replied.  “I just hope enough will come to this meeting to make a difference.”

“No sense in worrying right now ‘bout shit we can’t control, boys.  We’ll see who all shows up to this thing and make it work from there, just like we always do.  ‘Til then, let’s enjoy that these kids here are safe and sound, the military goons still don’t got a clue that we’re onto ‘em, and we got the start of a workable plan,” Bobby pointed out.  “Now, ‘bout that book on spiritual manifestations I mentioned last night . . .”

The conversation moved on to lighter topics from there.  Castiel popped in at the end of _Shrek 2_ to take Claire back to her mother, and we herded the rest of the youngsters upstairs to prepare for bed.  Once they were tucked in, Bobby chose to putter in our study and peruse the lore books we’d picked up recently.  Dean and I meanwhile retired to the gazebo for some “alone time.”

After an hour or so of some serious making out, we returned to the house and went upstairs to check on the children.  To no one’s surprise, the sofa bed in the game room was empty, and instead the queen bed in the boys’ room was nearly overflowing with five kids plus a puppy and kitten.  As we watched, one of the boys—Alec this time—whimpered and stirred in the beginnings of a bad dream.  Without waking, the others around him moved closer and tightened their arms around him, and Alec settled back into a quiet sleep.

_Huh, would ya look at that!_   Dean commented in surprise.  _Guess there really is something to these kids being better together._

I put an arm around my husband’s shoulders.  _Certainly looks that way.  We may want to make more of a push to have families adopt two or more of them together whenever possible.  And keep an eye out on the ones who currently don’t have any siblings with them._

_Well, Brin is close enough to Bobby’s two that she should be OK.  And Krit’s gonna have a whole pack’s worth of puppies to cuddle with soon enough if Bess Myers has her way with Garth!_ he said with a grin.   _So it’s just Seth and hopefully Kavi at the moment._

_We’ll have to see if we talk to Annie and Rufus about taking in another child when we find more.  But for now, our kids are fine, and we have a big, soft bed waiting for us downstairs._   I sucked a kiss behind his ear before taking his hand and leading him to our bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I knew when I first introduced the supernatural community during the boys' honeymoon in the previous story that I wanted it to play a big part in this one and to see how these supernatural creatures and hunters would interact. The boys and their friends will certainly have their work cut out for them in brokering this alliance! This chapter also drops one of the reasons why the boys simply haven't used their powers, or had Castiel or one of their other powerful friends do the same, to find the information they need or even to assault Manticore directly. The upcoming chapters will go into that some more. I didn't want to run into the narrative issue of the boys using their or others' powers to bypass their problems (which is the major reason why on the show Sam's powers disappeared and why Castiel's and Jack's are constantly nerfed in some way).
> 
> Speaking of Cas, I hope it's been clear than my version is not the useless dumbass that he's devolved into onscreen. I used to like the character in his early seasons, but he honestly should've stayed dead after the beginning of S7. Ever since he was brought back (for reason that had nothing to do with the character or story), he's gone from being a badass Warrior of God to a n incompetent plot device that keeps making the same stupid mistakes (not to mention that Misha has been phoning in his portrayal of the character for years). Fortunately, this is one of the many things we can fix in fanfic! So not only this version of the angel still a contributing part of the team, but he also remembers things like his obligation to the Novak family.
> 
> Sorry that this update is late, but yesterday I went to the movies with my sister-in-law right after work, and I was pretty brain-dead by the time I got home. Also, my writing has been really bogged down lately between the busy summer schedule, not having as much energy as I used to (especially with this new job), and the muse not being very inspired for some reason. So I've blown through the small buffer I had when I started this story, and unfortunately I'm not sure if I'll have the next chapter ready by next Wednesday. So I'll post it as soon as I can, but it looks like I won't be maintaining my regular weekly updating schedule until I can get my writing back on track. Until then, please be patient--this story WILL continue, even if it's at a slower pace than planned. 
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is welcome, and comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. I've noticed this story hasn't gotten many comments yet, so I hope you are still enjoying it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winchesters meet with the supernatural community . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, I'm finally back, and I'm sooo sorry for the long delay! Please see the end note for more grovelling . . .

Alec pressed his nose into the window as we turned onto the driveway for the Echidna Guest Ranch.  “Wow!  Is _this_ where we’re gonna be staying?”

The driveway took us through an imposing gate made of several heavy logs, flanked on either side by a post-and-rail fence that presumably bordered the property.  Past the gate, the drive crossed over a well-maintained expanse of lawn and over a small bridge spanning a slow-moving creek before leading up to the main lodge. 

 “Yeah, it is, kiddo.  But remember that we’re only gonna be here for a coupla days at the most, so we might not have much time to check this place out,” Dean replied.

“Aww, really?”  Both boys pouted in unison.

“Unfortunately yes, at least for this trip.  If we like what we do see here though, maybe we can make plans to come back some other time for a real vacation,” I added.

Edith had called us a couple of days ago with the time and location for the conference with as many of the supernatural community leaders as she and our other friends could convince to come.  The ranch, like the island resort we’d gone to for our honeymoon, was owned by and catered solely to members of the community and had thus been chosen as a safe place to meet.  It was located within the Shoshone National Forest, about an hour outside of Cody, Wyoming and not far from Yellowstone National Park.

We first got in touch with Bobby so that he could organize the meeting with the hunters for shortly after this one.  Then after notifying the auto shop and university that we’d be gone for a while, Dean and I packed the entire family into the Impala early in the morning yesterday and drove for most of the day, stopping for the night in Idaho Falls and then getting up early again to finish the trip.  In the past we would’ve pushed to reach our destination in a single day, but having two restless boys, an energetic puppy, and a demanding kitten with us necessitated frequent pit stops and an overnight stay at a decent hotel.  Thus it was an hour or so shy of noon when we pulled into the parking lot to the side of the Lodge and headed inside.

After checking in—under the name Smith-Wesson, not Winchester—we were given keys, several brochures, and a map of the ranch.  A short drive took us to a log cabin-style casita, which had a wide front porch with “Chimera” carved on a weathered sign hanging from the eaves.  Inside consisted of a large living room with a kitchenette, master bedroom with a sliding door to the back porch, slightly smaller second bedroom, and well-appointed bathrooms attached to each bedroom.  The furnishings were rustic but well-made and complemented the Shoshone and Arapaho art displayed throughout the building.

While the boys took Hannibal and Astrid out back to stretch their legs and Dean unpacked our bags, I texted Edith that we’d arrived.  She responded within moments that the meeting would be at the Great Room in the Lodge in a few hours, since some of the guests were still on their way.  I grabbed the brochures and called everyone back into the living room.

“Looks like the meeting’s not until three p.m. so we’ve got some time to kill,” I explained once the kids settled on the couch and my brother pulled some sodas out of the mini-fridge.  “What do we want to do after lunch?  There’s riding lessons out by the barn, hiking, fishing, arch—”

Alec and Ben glanced at each other and exclaimed simultaneously, “ _Horses_!”

I couldn’t help smiling indulgently, particularly after seeing Dean’s equally excited expression.  “I guess that’s settled then.  Let’s go eat!”

We ran into Tyler and his parents back at the Lodge, where we filled up on buffalo burgers with caramelized onions and red wine demi-glace, twice-baked potatoes, and grilled corn with pasilla butter.  They then joined us at the stables, where we were given in-depth lessons in grooming, saddling, and riding the ranch’s selection of good-natured horses and ponies.  The hands even showed us some basic roping techniques with a stationary dummy.  All three boys enjoyed themselves, but the happiest one there was Dean, who clearly loved the chance to act out some of his cowboy fantasies.

After returning to our casita to shower and change, we made our way to the Great Room a little before three o’clock.  We greeted Edith and Don, who were the only ones there yet, and then Dean and I claimed a small couch which gave us clear line-of-sight of the room’s entrances.  Alec and Hannibal flopped down at our feet, Ben perched on the arm of the sofa, and Astrid draped herself over Dean’s shoulders.  Once everyone was comfortable, we watched as the others, some who were familiar to us and most who were not, trickled in and took their seats.  A few of the people still maintained their human guises, but most were in their natural forms.

Edith eventually gave us a nod to indicate all the attendees were here, and I stood to get their attention.  “Thank you all for coming here on such short notice, particularly those of you who only know us by reputation.  I’m Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean.  We asked Edith and our other friends here to organize this meeting because we’ve run into something we can’t exactly deal with our own, so we’re hoping the community will be willing to help us.”

“Rumor is that you two took down fucking Satan by yourselves, so what could be so powerful that you can’t handle it?  And how do you expect _us_ to make a difference?” a dark-haired woman with djinn tattoos swirling up her arms asked.

“It’s not that this is stronger or more dangerous than Lucifer, but it _is_ more complicated,” I replied.  “You see, we recently learned that the US military, or at least a small group within it, has discovered a way to successfully clone people.  They’ve been running a secret program called Project Manticore to try to create the perfect super-soldier by combining and manipulating the genetic material of individuals they consider promising and then cloning the successful results.  Manticore’s been operating out of an old army base only a few hours from here, where they’ve been breeding and training these soldiers.”

“Sam and I got involved a little over three months ago when he started having dreams.  Those dreams led us to a stretch of road just outside that base on the night that a group of these soldiers—who are all of eight fucking years old—tried to escape.  We were able to rescue Alec here that night and brought him home with us.”  Dean dropped a hand to the top of Alec’s head before continuing.  “That’s when we found out that these Manticore assholes had gotten a hold of _my_ DNA some years back and used it to make a new batch of soldiers.”

“Are you saying these boys are your clones, like the stormtroopers in the crappy _Star Wars_ prequels?” a man with the slit pupils and black claws of a kitsune demanded incredulously.

“Listen dude, I know this sounds like something straight outta Syfy Channel, but we _ain’t_ bullshitting.  You can have David or another shifters read our thoughts, or have one of the witches cast a truth spell on us,” Dean responded.  “This is the real deal.  In fact, here’s a little demonstration!”

Alec and Ben got up and started to run around the room, moving so fast our eyes could barely follow them.  Ben ran to and from the refreshments table repeatedly, and pastries and cookies appeared in front of each person there.  Meanwhile, a pile of wallets, phones, and other effects from people’s pockets grew on the coffee table in front of us, courtesy of Alec’s more mischievous nature.  Barely two minutes had elapsed by the time the boys resumed their seats, and they weren’t even out of breath.

Dean looked over at the Lassiter brothers.  “You know of any shifter kids who can do _that_?”

David shook his head emphatically.  “Our children can’t access the deeper abilities until much later, and even most adults can’t move like those two just did!”

“Is that sufficient for the rest of you, or do you need further proof?”  Edith looked around the room.  There were some murmurs as people retrieved their belongings, but no one spoke up.  “Alright then.  What is it you’re looking for from us?”

“Our problem is two-fold.  Manticore is looking for Alec, Ben, and the other escapees, and they’re not likely to stop until they track them all down.  So far they don’t know of our involvement, but we and the others who’ve taken these children in don’t want to spend the rest of our lives hiding from these asshats.  So we have to take out Manticore before they can find any of us.

“In addition, we estimate that there are at least a couple hundred children still under the military’s control at the base near Gillette, and we can’t leave them there to be further manipulated and abused.  We’ve managed to find homes for the escaped kids we’ve been able to track down, but there aren’t enough reliable hunters and allies to take in all of the rest,” I explained.

“Bottom line, we need people to help us go against Manticore, and we need families willing to take in these kids after we’ve sprung ‘em,” Dean said.  “We’re hoping the community can help us out with both.  Most of you are stronger and faster than the average soldier, and their standard weapons can’t seriously hurt you.  And you’re more likely to be able to handle the kids’ . . . uh, unique needs _and_ keep their secret.”

“It’s terrible what’s happened, and forgive me if this sounds cold, but why should _we_ get involved?” the djinni asked.  “You’ve already gotten _your_ kids out, and the rest sounds like a humans-only problem.  Call the police or media and let them deal with it.”

“With what proof?  We don’t have anything that the authorities would consider legit evidence.  Even if we did, who knows how long it would take before they’d act on it, particularly with the military involvement, or what would happen to the children afterward?” I pointed out.  “Besides, this isn’t just a case of humans abusing other humans.  We‘re not sure if Alec and Ben are Dean’s only clones, and we do know that the entire X5 series has some of his genes, which make them all part-shifter.  In addition, the earlier series were spliced with animal DNA, so those kids have more in common with the people here than ordinary humans.”

“Still, why should we help _you_?  You two ain’t members of our community!  You’re fucking traitors who side with _hunters_ over your own kind!” a female vetala spat.

“That’s ‘cause it was a _hunter_ who was willing to take me in and raise me as his son, who devoted his life to trying to protect me and Sam, and who gave his goddamn _life_ to save mine!” my brother retorted angrily.  “And it was _hunters_ who stood by us through all the shit we’ve had to face, including the fucking Apocalypse!  Where were _you_ during all of that?”

I put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed reassuringly before adding, “Our dad may’ve had a fairly black-and-white view of the supernatural, with the exception of Dean, but we’ve done our best to not hunt anyone who hasn’t hurt anyone else.  Even before learning about the community, we had our ties to the supernatural.  Dean obviously is what he is, and I haven’t been completely human since I was a baby.  Our best friend is a seraph, another close friend is literally the King of Hell, and even our pets aren’t ‘normal.’  Plus we’ve established many ties to the community since discovering its existence and learned so much from it.”

Lenore spoke up.  “I don’t see how we can blame Sam and Dean for the choices they’ve made.  It wasn’t anyone from the community who took Dean away from his abusive parent or who tried to prevent demons from taking advantage of Sam’s powers.  So of _course_ they’re going to be loyal to the man who took care of them.  But as Sam just said, they _didn’t_ hurt me and even helped my nest escape years ago when they discovered we weren’t a threat.  More recently, they tracked us down and connected us with Edith’s nest so that we wouldn’t be alone anymore.  And we aren’t the only ones they’ve spared or helped over the years.”

“Sam and Dean brought a young man to us, the brother of a doctor friend of theirs, who’d been bitten years ago and was never taught how to control himself.  Thanks to these two young men, instead of having to live completely isolated and lock himself up during his change, Brian is now a happy member of our pack.  But all this is beside the point.  You naysayers should be ashamed of yourselves!  We’re talking about _children_ who need our aid, regardless of their race!” Reverend Myers scolded.  “We can’t simply sit by and do nothing.”

Don leaned forward.  “How much d’ya know about these Manticore blokes?”

“Not enough, I’m afraid.  There’s what we’ve gleaned from the kids’ memories and some basic stuff about the base itself we’ve been able to dig up, but not much more than that—certainly not enough to base a successful attack on.  These guys have been _really_ good about covering their tracks,” I admitted.  “We don’t plan to make any serious moves until we have more information, but we wanted to talk to you now because it’s going to take time for your people to make their decisions and then to coordinate those who are willing and able to help.”

“How do you plan to—to have us attack these soldiers?” Bess asked, her brow furrowed.  “I hope you understand that we _don’t_ kill people—it’s not only immoral, it’s a threat to the community’s survival.”

“We get that, and we don’t wanna kill these guys either,” Dean assured her.  “Whatever we do, we’re gonna focus on nonlethal options as much as possible.  The goal is to get these kids out and end this project for good, not go all Rambo on the dudes there.  No one should end up with blood on their hands if we can avoid it.”

One of the skinwalkers who owned and ran the ranch raised a hand.  “What else can you tell us about these children?”

“They range in age from about five or six up to late teens.  They’re extremely strong, fast, and smart, and there are some who have psychic or other abilities.  Some also can’t pass for human—the animal genes in their mix manifested too strongly,” I said.  “From what we’ve seen of these kids, they’re happiest when they’re with others like them, so we recommend that families adopt two or more together, preferably from the same unit.”

“Are you—are you going to bring other hunters in on this?”  David looked concerned.

“We are, because we’re going to need their skills and expertise—and firepower,” I replied.  “But we’ll only recruit those hunters that we trust not to go after our own allies _or_ the children.  There _are_ reasonable hunters out there, as some of you are already aware.  We’re going to meet with them in a couple days.”

“Some of us have previously discussed the potential benefits of both communities—supernatural and hunter—learning to work together.  This could be an unprecedented opportunity to make that possibility a reality,” Edith added.  “But in order for this to work, both sides will have to extend some faith.  Sam and Dean have already proven themselves, and it’s time that we do what we can to meet them halfway.”

“Still, this is quite a lot that you’re asking of us, and this isn’t something any of us should make snap decisions about.  I think we all need some time to consider what we should do,” Sal Lassiter said.

Dean nodded.  “That’s all we’re asking for right now, man.  We don’t want anyone to rush into this, and we don’t want anyone to do something they ain’t comfortable with.  All of you go back to your people and tell ‘em about what we’ve said, and then get back to us when you’re ready.  Any help that you’re willing to offer is gonna be appreciated.”

***

We answered a few more questions about the intel we currently had on Manticore and its base and about the children and their abilities after that.  Edith agreed to be the point of contact for those members of the community who agreed to help, and we gave her one of the untraceable burner phones.  The meeting broke up at that point, though some lingered for a while to socialize.

Once the room was mostly empty, Don announced, “Right, I’m going with you to this hunter powwow.”

“Huh?  Dude, you sure that’s a good idea?” Dean asked in concern.

“You’re gonna need someone to represent the supernatural community there besides yourselves—present a united front and all that rot.  Besides, you said these are gonna be the hunters who _won’t_ try to gank me on principle,” the vampire pointed out.

“Yeah, you should be fine.  I’m sure Bobby will have measures in place to prevent anyone from going off on anyone else there—even if that involves shooting their asses full of rock salt!” I said with a grin.

“Brilliant!  Hope you don’t mind if I ride with you then?  It’ll give me a chance to get to know these rugrats better.”  Don ruffled Ben’s hair.

“If we just had the kids with us, sure, but Muttley here takes up a lotta space in the backseat!”  Dean tugged fondly on one of Hannibal’s ears.  “I don’t think there’s room to squeeze anyone else in, ‘specially not for a twelve-hour drive.”

“Fair enough.  Lemme talk to the ladies ‘bout either following you or meeting you there.”  Don waved a sketchy salute and wandered over to where Edith and Lenore were chatting with the head of another nest.

It wasn’t all that late in the afternoon when we left the Lodge, so we took the boys to the archery and skeet shooting ranges.  Excited barking and howling could be heard in the distance, suggesting that some of the guests were talking advantage of the ranch’s well-stocked woods to let their wild side out.  Others could be seen on the riding and hiking trails or down by the fishing and swimming holes.  We stayed out until dusk started to fall, then returned to the casita to clean up.

Dinner that night was a barbeque out on the large terrace behind the Lodge.  Given the nature of many of the diners, the fare unsurprisingly leaned heavily towards very rare meat, mainly beef, venison, and bison, with sauces on the side ranging from sweet and tangy to eye-wateringly spicy.  Beside them were items not found at a meal from a human resort—platters of raw hearts and livers, bowls of chilled brains, and jugs of warmed blood.  Fortunately there were also grilled summer vegetables, bourbon peach baked beans, creamy bacon parmesan potatoes, and corn muffins with maple butter to supplement this carnivore’s paradise.  Washtubs full of ice and bottles of beer, hard cider, and soda stood to either side of the food-laden trestle tables.

Dean disappeared for a short time after we’d finished eating, and the look on his face when he returned was both secretive and pleased.  Since that expression usually led to something enjoyable for the both of us, I didn’t press him and instead continued my conversation with a pair of witches on different magical traditions.  Dean in turn began discussing the finer points of barbequing technique with the ranch’s grill master and a few others.  We both kept an eye on the boys as they ran around with the other children there, Hannibal chasing after them excitedly, until my brother caught Ben yawning widely.  We then bade the others goodnight and steered the boys back to our cabin.

I washed up first while Dean oversaw our sons’ bathtime antics, then he took his turn in the master bathroom while I corralled them into bed.  The shower was still running when I returned, so I locked and warded our room before undressing.  I lay back on the king-sized bed and idly stroked myself, wondering what surprise my husband had in store this time.

It wasn’t much longer before the bathroom door opened, and my breath caught as Dean strolled out.  He was wearing a cowboy hat, chinks, boots, and absolutely nothing else.  The hat was black felt with a braided brown leather hatband studded in silver, the chinks were black suede with matching fringe, tooled brown leather yoke and accents, and silver conchos and buckles, and the boots were black leather with silver embroidery and brown harnesses with silver hardware.  That hat shaded his eyes to a dark mossy hue while playing up his fair complexion, his swagger in those boots emphasized the curve of his long legs, and those chinks framed the proud jut of his cock in front and the lush swell of his ass in back.

“Howdy there, pardner,” he drawled, a broad grin on his face.  “Like whatcha see?”

“Oh my god,” I breathed, my own erection now rock hard.  _You . . . you look—_

_I know, I look_ awesome _!_ he said smugly while sauntering to the bed. 

_I am_ never _complaining about your cowboy fetish ever again!_ I vowed.  “C’mere!”

He smirked and put one knee on the edge of the mattress, then swung the other leg around until he was straddling my thighs and pressing our members together.  I immediately sat up and caught his face with one hand to bring it closer for a kiss while dropping the other hand to wrap around our shafts and begin stroking.  He put his hands on my shoulders to lean into the kiss and rocked his hips to rub his cock against mine.

_Can’t believe your hand is big enough to go around_ both _of our dicks!  That’s just so_ hot _, little brother,_ he moaned.

I smiled.  _You like that I’m larger than you, huh?  Turns you on that I can make a big guy like you feel petite?_

His response was to shut his eyes and thrust harder into my hand.  I in turn jerked us off faster, and before too long we both groaned nearly simultaneously and came hard all over my hand.  As I tried to catch my breath, he brought my wrist up and sensuously licked my fingers and palm clean.

Before I could do anything else, Dean lifted himself up and slid down on my still stiff member, sighing happily when he bottomed out.  He then grinned at me, pushed me down, and said, _We ain’t done yet, hoss!  You know what they say—save a horse, ride a cowboy!_

He proceeded to rise up and sink down on me enthusiastically, one hand braced on my chest and the other keeping his hat in place.  I placed my hands on his hips and bucked up vigorously into his slick channel, determined to give him the “ride” of his life.  He whooped and moved over me with even more abandon, as if he really were on the back of a bucking bronco. 

Sex with Dean was never dull, but watching his unreserved delight took our lovemaking to another level.  I tightened my grip, angled my pelvis just right, and pounded into his prostate.  He swore and slammed himself down on my cock just as forcefully, his back arching in pleasure and his passage squeezing around me.  My climax soon came rushing up on me, and I barely managed to hold back long enough to slide a hand around his shaft and give it a couple swift tugs.  As he shuddered and clenched in the throes of his orgasm, I drove into him once last time and spent myself with a hoarse shout.  He then fell backwards gracefully, coming to rest in a loose-limbed sprawl against my legs.

I propped myself up a bit on my elbows and looked tenderly at my now contentedly purring lover.  _Looks like someone had fun at the ranch gift shop earlier!  I probably don’t want to know how much this getup cost, do I?_

He gave a languid shrug.  _I can probably return some of it before we leave, if you—_

_Hell no, we’re keeping all of it!_ I interrupted.  _In fact . . . maybe we can pick up a matching duster sometime later to . . . uh, complete the ensemble._

He glanced up in surprise.  _Really?_

_Really really.  We can call it a belated birthday present,_ I suggested.

Dean raised a quizzical brow.  _Dude, my birthday was in_ January _.  Dontcha think it’s kinda late for that?_

_Not if I’m saying this is a present for_ me _._   I suddenly shifted my legs to roll him off onto his belly and gave his ass a slap.  _Now giddyup, cowboy!  I’m not done breaking you in!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I'm SO SORRY for the extended hiatus! I never expected it to take THIS long to get the next chapter out. Some of the issues were busier schedules in the summer and extended recovery from the previous year's medical drama, but the main problem was my muse coming down with a serious case of the blahs. I tried forcing myself to plug away at this chapter for a long time, and that worked about as well as you'd expect. I finally started working on a new story for a while, and that rejuvenated my inspiration enough to finish this in the past few days. Thanks for your patience in sticking through the long delay!
> 
> The Echidna Guest Ranch is based on several dude ranches in western Wyoming, with of course a supernatural twist thrown in, as we saw at the BBQ. Don't worry though, the organs served there came from livestock, not people (and the blood probably came from blood bags). The community works very hard to not attract attention from the general public or hunters, so most of its members don't kill humans for food and instead rely on animal substitutes, morgues and funeral homes, blood banks, etc. BTW, the name of the ranch does NOT refer to the marsupial.
> 
> So I love Dean's cowboy fetish in general and sheriff!Dean from 6.18 Frontierland in particular. I'd like nothing better than to include a lovemaking scene with Dean in that outfit somewhere, but I don't know if where this series is going will be conducive to that happening. But when the opportunity to put Dean in cowboy duds came up in this chapter, I just had to take advantage of it! There was also some definite influence from the montage of Dean riding Larry the mechanical bull at the end of 12.11 Regarding Dean. Hope y'all enjoyed it! :)
> 
> Given my muse's fickle behavior lately, I'm not sure when the next chapter will go up--it probably won't be ready in a week, but hopefully won't take much more than a couple weeks or so (and definitely not nearly 3 MONTHS!). I'd like to eventually get back to a more regular posting schedule, but for right now it is what it is. Constructive criticism is welcome as always, and comments and kudos make my day.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys run into an old adversary and make plans with some allies . . .

There was still some time before the hunter gathering at Bobby's, so we decided to spend another day at the ranch.  After a hearty cowboy breakfast of skillet hash, flapjacks, biscuits, and gravy, we returned to the stables for further lessons and then took a few of their more placid horses and ponies out on a riding trail.  We had a bit of excitement when a couple teenaged skinwalkers tried to spook our steeds for fun, but Alec pounced on the one and discovered that she was _very_ ticklish even in fur, and the other scurried off after Ben oh-so-innocently asked me how hard it would be to turn his pelt hot pink. 

Lunch was Tex-Mex, with sizzling fajitas, a burrito bar, and a variety of bean dishes.  The afternoon was spent boating and swimming on the ranch's small lake, where we met a family of undines.  Dean took a few minutes to figure out how to mimic their gills before joining the mother and daughters in a spirited game of underwater tag, while the father and I supervised our respective sons paddling around in kayaks from the floating platform near the center of the lake.  Once we’d cleaned up back at our cabin, there were pan-fried pork chops, skillet creamed corn, sautéed collard greens with red onions and bacon, and sourdough biscuits in the Lodge and then storytelling and music around a bonfire on the terrace outside.

We were on the road to Sioux Falls early the next morning.  Driving with our sons in the backseat brought back some of the more pleasant memories of our childhood in this car, of whiling away the long hours by pointing out interesting sights and landmarks, playing card and travel games, making up stories, and of course annoying each other.  Alec and Ben also had their DS consoles and Hannibal and Astrid to entertain them, and we stopped more frequently than Dad usually did to let everyone stretch their legs. 

We were approaching the salvage yard the next morning, having spent the night at the Best Western in Murdo, SD, when Dean suddenly said, _I’m gonna hafta out myself at this meeting, ain’t I?_

I gave him a puzzled look.  _What’re you talking about, dude?_

_That I’m a shifter, I mean.  It’s kinda like the fight with Lucifer—I’m gonna need to use my abilities against Manticore, and we can’t afford for someone on_ our _side to flip out and try to gank me,_ he explained. 

_You’re right,_ I acknowledged.  _It’ll also make why we’ve both been accepted by the supernatural community make more sense, since just going with me being psychic might be a bit thin.  Maybe it’ll also help these hunters accept the community more easily, to know someone like you isn’t human either.  Only . . . what happens if anyone takes the news . . . poorly?_

He shrugged.  _Between our abilities and the guys who’ll still have our backs, we can smack down anyone who tries to go after me or the kids.  And if some dickwad tries to say I can’t be in the club no more, fuck ‘em!  I more than_ earned _the goddamn right to be a hunter!_

_Don’t worry, I’ll hold your beer while you kick the ass of any moron who suggests that Dean fucking Winchester doesn’t deserve to be a hunter,_ I responded, laying my hand over his.

He grinned back at me, _Aww, Sammy, you’re so swee—_ Fuck _!_

Dean suddenly slammed on the brakes and swore as he fought to keep the car from swerving out of control, while startled yells and barks rose from the backseat as everyone was thrown forward.  The Impala screeched to a halt barely a yard away from the figure in the middle of the road.  I pushed myself up from where I’d braced myself against the dashboard and stared in surprise and growing anger at the small, dark-haired woman standing in front of us with a familiar smirk on her face.

My brother meanwhile turned to look over his seat.  “You two stay right here and don’t get outta the car unless either me or Papa say so, alright?  Hannibal, _guard_!”

We both then unbuckled our seatbelts and got out of the car, slamming the doors shut almost simultaneously.  I reached and teleported the demon-killing knife out of the trunk and into my hand, while Dean did the same with an angel blade.  We exchanged a grim look and walked towards the front of the Impala, and I quickly threw a shield over the vehicle once we were between it and her.

“Hello, boys.  Fancy meeting you here!” Meg drawled nonchalantly, a hand on her hip.  “Sorry for the abrupt entrance, but the old man has that junkyard warded six ways to Sunday.  I figured though that if I waited out here long enough, you two fine piles of flannel would show up sooner or later.”

“You got any last words before I shove this where the sun don’t shine, bitch?” Dean growled, raising his blade.

“Now Deano, is that any way to talk to a lady?  Especially one who only has your best interests at heart?” she asked with a faux-injured air.

I stepped forward, knife at the ready.  “The last time we saw you, you caused the deaths of two of our friends, people who meant a _lot_ to us.  And before that, you killed friends of our dad’s, men who’d helped raise us.  Not to mention all the innocents you’ve hurt, including the girls whose bodies you’ve stolen.”

“And let’s not forget when you possessed Sam and forced him to kill another hunter,” my brother interjected.  “Then tried to go after one of our friends, kill me, _and_ get me to kill him!”

“So after all that, why would we want to do anything besides end your sorry ass?” I demanded.

“Whaddya expect me to say?”  She spread her hands disingenuously.  “I’m not gonna pretend I regret what I did, and not just because _duh_ , demon.  Nothing personal, but I did what needed to be done to support my father and my god and their goals.  If there’d been something else that could’ve prevented their defeat, I would’ve done that too.

“But now I’m in kinda a bind as a result,” she admitted.  “The smarmy _worm_ who’s had the nerve to take their place in Hell is trying to hunt down all their supporters and make them bow down or else, and guess who’s at the top of their list?  That’s right, little old me.”

Dean quirked an eyebrow and crossed his arms.  “And we should give a fuck why?  Sounds like one less evil skank in the world if Crowley feeds you to Juliette.”

“I may be an evil skank, but I've figured one thing out about this world—you find a cause, and you serve it.  Give yourself over, and it orders your life,” she said earnestly.  “Lucifer and Yellow Eyes—their mission was it for me for most of my life.  Now that they’re gone, I need a new cause, as in a reason to get up in the morning.

“Listen, you may have a lotta people on your side, but they have their own issues.  The old man and your other human buddies may support you now, but they’ll be pushing daisies in a few decades tops.  That bootlicker Crowley will always look out for number one, and you’ll find out just how good a friend he is the first time his plans clash with yours.  And even sweet Castiel has to constantly fight against his family ties.

“Me, however—I’ll be Team Winchester all the way, if you’ll have me.  No divided loyalties, no mortal frailty, and no bullshit.  You know what I’m capable of, so imagine that working _for_ you instead of against you, even hampered by whatever dumbass rules you insist on.”

It was my turn to look skeptical.  “And why _us_?  We’re the reason you don’t have a boss anymore, after all.  Do you honestly think Crowley will leave you alone if we ask simply because he’s our friend?”

“No, he’ll do it because _you’re_ the true heir to Hell’s mantle—you’re Azazel’s chosen child, Lucifer’s perfect vessel.  If you ever claimed the throne, every fucking demon would bow down to you, and that slimy upstart couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it.”  Meg stepped closer, her eyes burning.  “And _he’s_ the Michael Sword and the other half of your soul, and together you two could burn the whole world down if you wanted.  Just ‘cause you’re both too lame—I mean, _noble_ —to ever act on it don’t change the fact that you’re the biggest game in town, short of the top guns in the God-squad.”

Dean brought his blade back up in warning.  “Whoa, back up there, crazy eyes!  You expect us to suddenly trust you on your say-so?  We might be ‘lame’ by demon standards, but we weren’t born yesterday.”

“I figure you trust me not even as far as you can kick me, and boy do you want to do more than just kick me!  I’m prepared to turn over a new leaf for you guys, but I don’t presume you’ll take my word on it.  So if it’ll help you sleep at night, put a binding on me,” she offered.  “At least until I prove that I really do have your backs.”

“You’d honestly let us do that?” I asked.

She shrugged.  “If all you two are using your phenomenal cosmic powers for is to be better at saving people instead of, I dunno, ruling the planet—which frankly makes me throw up in my mouth a little—then I ain’t too worried that you’ll take advantage of me.  So, what’ll it be?”

I looked over at my husband.  _What do you think?  Do we take a risk on her, or do we let Crowley have her?_

_I dunno, man.  This ain’t like giving Crowley a chance before, ‘cause he never tried to hurt us.  What happened maybe wasn’t personal for_ her _, but Ellen, Jo, Caleb, and Pastor Jim would still be alive if it wasn’t for this bitch.  It’d be a helluva lot easier to just gank her and be done,_ he replied.

_Yeah, but since when have we ever taken the easy way?_   I pointed out.  _I get that what she did in the past is nearly impossible to forgive, but . . . I think Meg really is sincere now—and not just because she doesn’t want to die.  I hate to say it, but she could be useful to have around, as long as we can keep her under control._

Before he could respond, the car door creaked, and a worried voice whispered, “Dad?  Papa?  Everything OK?”

We both turned our heads, not wanting to put our backs to the demon.  Two blond heads peered back at us from behind the open car door.  Hannibal had placed himself in front of the door, growling and glaring at Meg, his eyes glowing red and the glamour on his appearance flickering.

“Aw, look at the fierce widdle puppy!” she cooed, a delighted expression on her face.  “And where did you find a matching set of mini-me’s, Deanie?  They’re just _adorable_!”

“Shut up, Meg!” we snapped in chorus, before exchanging another look.  I then moved towards the boys, while Dean turned his attention back to Meg.

“We’re fine—we’re just talking to her.  But what are _you_ doing?  We told you both to stay in the car for a reason!  We’ve had trouble with this . . . woman in the past, and we don’t know if she’s going to cause more now,” I scolded.

“Sorry, Papa.  But since you _were_ just talking and not fighting with her, we thought it would be okay to come out.  We wanted to know what’s happening,” Ben explained.

“And we kept the car and Hannibal between her and us.  We can tell she’s a demon ‘cause of the smell,” Alec added.  “Besides, we knew you wouldn’t let her near us.  And she don’t know what _we_ can do.”

“That may be true, but it doesn’t excuse disobeying us in a situation like this.  If this _had_ turned into a fight, we can’t afford the distraction if you don’t stay where we can best protect you.  Do you understand?” I asked sternly.

“Yessir,” they both said in chastened voices, then got back inside the Impala.

Dean meanwhile growled, “Back off, Meg—I mean it!  Our family ain’t any of your business.  You don’t wanna cross either me or Sam on this!”

She did indeed move back several paces, her hands help up in a non-threatening manner.  “Sorry there, Papa Bear!  Didn’t mean any harm, honest.”

“As far as your . . . _offer_ goes, that ain’t something we can decide on right away.  Best we can do now is let you go without trying to gank you—as long as you swear to not hurt anyone while you wait for us,” he told her.  “We’ll summon you when we’re ready to talk.”

“Alright, I hear ya.  And scout’s honor that I’ll do my best to stay on the straight and narrow until you call.”  Meg took another step back and disappeared.

Right before she vanished, I tossed a tracking spell on her.  We both then scanned the area to make sure she was really gone and not simply hiding, before returning to the car and getting back on the road.

***

We pulled up in front of Bobby’s house a short while later.  As we started to get out of the Impala, the front door opened, and two black and brown puppies raced towards us, barking excitedly.  They skidded to a stop when Hannibal tumbled out of the car and looked uncertainly at the much larger pup.  Hannibal bounded over and crouched down in front of them, his tail wagging furiously.  After some cautious sniffing, the Rotties yipped happily before jumping on him, and the three proceeded to chase each other around Alec and Ben.

“I see you’ve met Boudicca and Cuchulain,” Bobby commented from the top of the porch steps.

A stampede rushed by him before he could say anything else and crashed into the boys and puppies.  Amidst the ensuing chaos, I managed to recognize Krit and Kavi in addition to Jondy, Tinga, and Brin, which suggested that Garth and Rufus were already here.  Sure enough, they showed up behind Bobby and watched the ruckus in amusement.

“Okay, why don’t you rugrats go out back and run off some of this energy and enthusiasm?  Then we adults can bring everything inside and make some plans,” Dean announced.

While the eager pack of kids, pups, and one bemused kitten made their way to the backyard, Dean, Garth, and I grabbed our bags out of the trunk and followed Bobby and Rufus into the house.  The differences since Jody and the girls had moved in were readily apparent as we looked around.  The exterior of the house had been repainted, the junkers and debris cleared in a large enough radius to make room for actual lawns, gardens, and walkways, and the beginning of an elaborate jungle gym visible in back.  The interior of the house was the cleanest we’d ever seen it, the more decrepit furniture and appliances refurbished or replaced, and the clutter of books, papers, and mystical bric-a-brac reorganized and joined by cookbooks, soccer cleats, dog toys, and other homey touches.

As Jody came forward to greet us, I hugged her and said, “Love what you and the girls have done here, Jody.  This old place looks amazing!”

“Hah!  Mr. Grumpypants here tried grumbling when we first started fixing things up, but he stopped complaining once he figured out the result was regular home-cooked meals, clean laundry, and actually being able to _find_ things!” she replied with a grin.  “Why don’t you take your things upstairs?  We’ve got a lot to talk about once you’re settled.”

Upstairs, the bedroom that we’d always used was mostly unchanged, other than being neater and having some new decorative items.  The other guest bedroom had been converted into the girls’ room, with a large cot temporarily added to accommodate the visiting children.  We didn’t pry into the master bedroom but did notice from looking up the stairs that part of the attic had been cleared out as a playroom.

After depositing our bags and the boys’ in the appropriate rooms and heading back downstairs, everyone settled in the living room with bottles of soda or mugs of coffee.  Bobby then announced, “Before we start discussing the meetings, we got a potentially serious problem on our hands.  Jody, you wanna explain?”

Jody sighed.  “Tinga and Jondy went to a birthday party last weekend for a friend from their soccer league.  What we didn’t realize is that the girl’s mother is not only a shutterbug but also a social media addict.  She took pictures of everyone at the party, tagged them, and uploaded them to Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, and who knows where else. 

“We only found out a couple of days ago and so far haven’t been able to convince the woman to take the pictures of our girls down.  She’s pooh-poohed our attempts to bring up general concerns about privacy, online predators, and the other usual reasons why people might object to their kids’ images being posted.  I’m debating if giving her some story about vindictive former foster parents tracking them down might work.  Or you know, just threatening her with my gun,” she concluded with a roll of her eyes.

Garth whistled.  “Whoa, this could be serious bad news if Manticore has anyone monitoring sites like that!”

“Tell me about it,” Bobby said with a grimace.  “We can probably get Frank to take down the original posts if necessary, but it won’t help if other people have already spread ‘em around.  Or if those military bastards have already seen ‘em.”

“Actually, I think this could work in our favor, so we should leave ‘em up.  Our biggest problem with taking on Manticore is our lack of information, right?  We can’t get anyone into their base or hack anything outta it, so all we’ve got so far is what the kids have told us,” Dean pointed out.  “I’ve been thinking that our best bet would be to use my abilities to download someone’s memories to get what we need.  But to do that, we gotta get our hands on one of their goons that knows enough to be useful.”

“So you wanna use _my_ daughters as bait to lure one of Lydecker’s teams to _my_ house to try to capture one or more of ‘em?  Are you outta your damn mind, boy?” Bobby demanded indignantly.

“That’s _exactly_ what I mean.  Think about it, man!  This is the perfect place to lay a trap for these douchebags—it’s the most defensible outta all our homes, you’ve already got security out the wazoo here, and between all of us we can beef it up even more,” my brother explained.  “So unless you’ve got a better idea, I say we work with what we got.”

I leaned forward.  “Dean’s right—this is our best shot.  Cas’ friend Samandriel can warn us when the team leaves the base, so we’ll know when to expect them.  Customers already get lost in the maze out there all the time, and we can arrange the salvage yard even further to lead the soldiers to where _we_ want them to go.  And we can put enough physical and mystical security on this house to ensure the children’s safety even if someone gets past us.”

“The boys have a point.  We ain’t gonna defeat these fools without taking some risks, old man,” Rufus added.  “I get that you don’t wanna bring danger so close to your family, but you know we can turn that junkyard into a giant roach motel—the bad guys can walk in, but they ain’t gonna walk out!”

“Alright, alright, I hear ya,” Bobby grumbled.  “Most of the protections here are against shit that goes bump in the night, but there are still the surveillance cameras, motion sensors, security lights, and silent alarms I got set up, and between the lot of us, we can either turn this place into a fortress or _really_ build a better mousetrap.  I suppose we can make this work to our benefit.”

Jody asked, “What are we going to do with the soldiers once Dean’s done his thing though?  We’re not killing them, right?  I suppose I _could_ legitimately arrest them for trespass, assault, and attempted kidnapping, but that’ll bring more official attention on this mess than we probably want.”

“Yeah, we’re definitely _not_ ganking anybody, either here or at the base.  We’ll hafta figure out how to detain these guys ‘til we can throw ‘em in with the others at the headquarters.  Our thought is that after the kids are safely away, we release a redacted version of Manticore’s dirty laundry to the public via Frank, and then let the authorities deal with the goons and the rest of the mess,” Dean said.

“Well, let’s all put our thinking caps on and see if we can come up with some kinda plan in the next day or two.  In the meantime, you boys follow me—got some things I wanna show you before the others show up.”  Bobby then beckoned and led us down to the basement.

“I was thinking that we can’t assume Manticore is still in the dark ‘bout the supernatural, so we’d best be prepared.  I got in touch with Allen, the guy who took over Caleb’s business, and we came up with these.”  He plopped several items on the table in his workshop area.  “This Kevlar vest has steel plates in the center, front and back, for the shifters, weres, and anyone else vulnerable to heart shots.  Regular vests would also be good for keeping the rest of us from getting ventilated.  Allen got this steel gorget from a guy who supplies medieval reenactors, so we figure it should be able to stop a machete just as well as a sword.  And here’s a ballistic helmet, since getting shot in the noggin will ruin anyone’s day.”

“This is pretty awesome, dude!” Dean said admiringly.

“I agree—these are great ideas!  We’ll also need to look into nonlethal weapons, like tasers, riot guns, and flashbang grenades, since the standard hunter arsenal would rack up a body count we don’t want,” I added.

“He should be able to supply us with those too,” Bobby responded.  “We’re gonna hafta pass the hat around to get enough for everyone though.  Allen might be willing to give us a few _gratis_ to help these kids, but folks will need to fork over some cash for the rest.”

I nodded.  “Between the community members and those hunters with some disposable income, we should be able to make it work.”

“Speaking of the community, let’s head back upstairs so you can tell all of us how that meeting went.”  Bobby then suited actions to words and made his way to the stairs.

Back in the living room, we discovered that Castiel had arrived.  He was looking more rumpled than usual, with his hair mussed, his tie askew, and his trench coat streaked with grass and dirt.  Jody was attempting to help him tidy up.

Dean took in his bedraggled appearance and smirked.  “Lemme guess—you popped in the backyard first.”

“Hello, Dean, Sam.  You would be correct.  I had noticed the Impala out front and surmised that you had arrived.  I then heard shouting out back and went to investigate, whereupon the children declared I was something called ‘it’ and . . . _swarmed_ me.  Jody had to call them off so that I could come inside.”  The angel’s expression was rather discomfited.

“Those kids are a force of nature, ‘specially when you got so many of ‘em together,” Garth put in with a grin.  “So, you gonna fill us in on the big get-together?  And uh . . . was—was Bess there?  Was she doing okay?”

“Yes, Bess and her dad were there, and she’s fine.  I’m sure she’ll be pleased that you were asking after her,” I replied, feeling amused as the lanky hunter turned pink.  “The meeting went pretty well overall, I think.  Most of the people there seemed willing to consider what we were asking.”

“Yeah, there was only one or two who tried to give us attitude ‘cause of who we are.  The rest are gonna take our request back and talk it over with their people,” Dean continued.  “The ones that are willing to either attack Manticore or adopt the kids will let Edith know, and she’ll keep us in the loop.”

“Well, that’s some progress!  We’ll keep our fingers crossed that enough of them agree to help,” Jody said, after giving up on convincing Cas to let her wash his coat and sitting down next to Bobby.

“In a lotta ways, _that_ was the easy part.  Getting a bunch of cantankerous hunters to agree to _anything_ will be the real challenge, considering as how most of ‘em are just as ornery and thick-headed as this old fool here.”  Bobby pointed a thumb towards Rufus.

“You can bite me, Bobby,” Rufus responded pleasantly.

Jody flicked Bobby in the side of the head before turning back to the rest of us.  “In all seriousness, I think all you need to do is lay it out for them clearly and honestly.  Hunters may be difficult to deal with in general, but most of you are too decent to ignore what’s happening with these kids.  The real challenge will be figuring out where to _put_ everyone!”

“At least a couple should be able to bunk up in the attic with me and Rufus, as long as the girls don’t mind more people crashing in their playroom,” Garth offered.  “And we can fit a few air mattresses and sleeping bags in here and in the study.  The rest can camp outside or find a motel nearby.  Don’t you worry, Miss Jody—we’ll work it out.”

“By the way, we did run into a bit of a . . . complication on the way here—almost literally,” Dean added.  “That bitch Meg was lurking not far from the salvage yard, waiting for us.  She’s apparently at the top of Crowley’s shit-list for being Yellow-Eyes’ and Lucifer’s heavy hitter, so now she wants to switch sides and play for our team—she figures we’re badass enough that no one will mess with her.”

Bobby raised his eyebrows.  “Since I assume you told her, ‘Hell no!’ and then shanked her, I don’t see what the problem is.”

“The thing is . . . we, uh, didn’t,” I admitted.  “She seemed to be serious about wanting our help and about being willing to help us out in return.  I . . . I think we should give her a chance.”

Rufus shook his head.  “Now see here, Sam.  It’s one thing to make friends with this Crowley fellow, since he did help you with Lucifer and all.  But doing the same with this crazy black-eyed chick, who’s done nothing but hurt you—that don’t make a lick of sense!”

“There’s a big part of me that’d like nothing better than to waste her, but . . . I get where Sam’s coming from.  Meg’s willing to abide by our rules, even offered to let us put a binding on her to prove she means it.  The way I see it, better that we have her on some kinda leash than letting her run amok on her own . . . and we might as well get some use outta her while we’re at it.  If she turns out to be more trouble than she’s worth, we can still end her later,” Dean pointed out.

“Meg . . . I remember her from the town where we tried to use the Colt on the Morningstar.  She was . . . intriguing,” Cas commented, a curious look on his face.  “Once you have bound her to your satisfaction, I would be willing to . . . chaperone her, until we can determine if she is trustworthy or not.”

“If you can watch out for her, that would be a big help,” I said gratefully.  “I did cast a tracker on her, which will make keeping tabs on her easier.  But first we need to find the right spell to keep her from causing any problems.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll look into demon-binding sigils and rituals after this damn meeting,” Bobby grumbled.  “I just hope we don’t regret this!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I am SO sorry for the long hiatus. My current job sucks up a lot of my energy, so many days I feel too blah to brain about anything when I get home, and sometimes the muse acts fickle on top of that. My thanks to all of you who've been patient and continued to stick with this story. I hope the next update won't take months, but I can't make any promises.
> 
> So obviously I've introduced Meg into this story. She's long been a favorite of mine, particularly Meg 2.0, for her snark, her transformation from enemy to reluctant ally (like Crowley and like Rowena), and of course her lovely relationship with Castiel (yes, I totally ship Megstiel). I've been looking for an opportunity to add her to this 'verse, and this seemed as good a time as any. We'll have to see where her relationship with the boys and with Cas goes . . .
> 
> Sam and Dean finally have the beginning of a plan to deal with their most significant hurdle in taking on Manticore, which is their lack of information. So they'll lay a trap for the very people hunting them and hopefully have a chance to show off their badassery (because there's never enough of that). But before that, they have to convince a bunch of contrary hunters to agree to help them! The next chapter for the meeting should be the last "planning" chapter, then we'll have some action for a while. :)
> 
> As previously mentioned, I'm not sure how long it will take to put together the next chapter. In the meantime, I might start posting one of the side projects I've been working on (when the muse is being difficult, I've found it helps to work on a different story for a while) sometime soon. In the meantime though, constructive criticism is always welcome, and comments and kudos make my day. :D


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